“What just happened? How could this be? I asked my Rana in total disbelief.
Her cheerful reply: “Welcome to your new world. Now you’re one of us.”
With astonishment, if not outright shock, I had to admit that my PILL (partner in love & life) was, as always, correct.
I crossed over that line joining quite a few Vegas Voice readers. The new reality? Going on medical appointments.
Last month I spent one week going to four different doctors for various health ailments.
I still can’t comprehend it. Before I met my Rana and even after nearly a dozen years together, I never had a need to see a doctor. While I have previously mentioned Rana’s health issues and concerns, I was always the chauffeur… and caregiver.
And then once I turned 70 it is as if my warranty expired. All of a sudden things started to fall apart.
I was brought up that visits to the doctor and drugs were always the very last resort. The family tradition centered around my great grandfather.
He lived until he was 96 and according to family lore was never sick or ill a day of his life. When he told my grandparents that he had a headache, they gave him two Anacin and told him to lay down. He passed away that evening.
To this day my family remains convinced it was the aspirin that killed him.
With my aversion to seeing doctors, you can only imagine how my PILL kept fighting me to finally get a primary physician.
And when she eventually dragged me to the doctor and after a few tests, the doc laid out my new “dos and don’ts” and required prescriptions.
“You know” I said to the doctor who was half my age, “I never had any problems until I went to you.”
“Come to think of it…” I said to Rana (while she was shooting me that “look” that can frighten and make any person ill). She anticipated the rest of my statement. “Finish that thought and you’ll be wondering what other problems you’re going to be living with.”
Luckily my brain is still working properly and stopped my mouth from further damage.
As I said, I had four different appointments in the same week. I visited an optometrist to finalize my eye-lid procedure, my primary for a check-up and then to top it off, a dentist, followed by an oral surgeon to remove a cracked tooth.
That was my week. Sound familiar to those reading this?
I guess all in all, I shouldn’t complain and instead be thankful that my (and my Ladylove’s) health is still very good.
But as I scheduled follow-up appointments over the next two months, I could not help looking in the mirror and wondering what happened to that young virile healthy guy with that giant Afro.
