April 30 – “Chatty?”

OK.  So I was accused last night of being overly chatty in my blog posts.  As I contemplated a response, it looked as if I had to choose between waxing philosophical concerning the ordinary-looking happenstances of day to day living in on a small barrier reef near the coast of Texas or blurting out whatever comes to my mind whenever I get a chance to beat on the keys of my laptop.  I suppose the first option might have a better chance of resulting in publication opportunities for my heirs after I am dead.  The second seems to be providing me an outlet that allows me to hold onto the meager tidbit of sanity remaining in my feeble little mind.  I guess I'll have to put it to a vote.   Meanwhile, I did have a doctor's appointment this morning.  It was the rheumatologist.  The guy who was supposed to step in with the miracle cure for rheumatoid arthritis in old guys who think they should still be able to play softball and stand on their head at least once a year.  He walked into the room looking a bit frazzled.  There were no residents on hand, but they were still behind in their schedule.  He obviously wasn't happy about it.  He did manage a grin when he shook hands and asked, "So how are you feeling?"  My answer?  Something along the lines of, "This last six weeks has included some of the worst days I have had in a long time."  He replied from behind a sheepish-looking grin, "So then I guess the medicine we tried last time didn't rush in like a miracle cure and solve all your problems?"  After that he just sat there, looking at me for what seemed like several minutes.  I know it was only a few seconds, because this guy can't help but talk to fill empty air space.  But it sure felt like a long time to me.  Scenarios were racing around my head.  What if he's trying to figure out a way to say, "Sorry.  We're done."?  What if this means it's going to get worse and worse?  What if …?    He did his usual exam, and finally said, "I have good news and bad news.  The good news is we have some wiggle room in the medications we can use.  The bad news is we have some wiggle room in the medications we can use."  That could only mean I had to take more of the yellow pills, or maybe go back to the steroids.  Was I ever right on that call.  He increased the number of yellow pills to six a day.  And he started me back on the low dose of predizone.  And I have to come back in six weeks.  If I'm better, we still won't know exactly why.  It could be one or the other of the medications or maybe the combination.  Honestly, I don't care exactly why.  If it works, it works.  Let's get to the pharmacy.    Chris and I did enjoy our regular (well, our second), every-six-weeks date on the way home.  We went to Olive Garden.  I guess twice makes that "our special place."    Hebrews 12:1 says, "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us."   Father, show me some more of the questions so I can get excited when I realize I have found an answer.  Amen.