What I Got Is A Free Pass!

I felt intimidated by the hugeness of the hospital. Trust me, it is huge! And there's lots of it; I mean, there is a campus of hospitals to make up The Hospital and each hospital on the campus is huge. Altogether, that makes it SUPER HUGE! and in GREAT HUGENESS. I was correct to feel a bit panicked and very intimidated. Jamelah said "Don't have a panic attack!" as I gulped when we approached the first parking ramp (not our designated ramp... we, had to pass 2 more before we got to ours). Humph! I'm not panicking. Yep. I'm not, well, not yet anyway.

Our instructions were precise (which is probably why I doubted them) and clear. They took us to the right ramp, the right door, the right hallway, the right office. Weird.

Jamelah had brought her laptop and settled into a comfy couch in a large outer lounge area and settled in for some enjoyable reading time. I headed into the inner sanctum to face the dreaded ordeal. I was quickly checked in and sent off with the nurse for my first inspection. She left me to catch my breath and I was soon greeted by 2 medical students who were "happy" (their words, not mine) to make my acquaintance and wanted to know if I would mind if they "observed" the process. "Nope!" you know, the more the merrier.

Next the assistant doctor came and inspected me with the students "observing". They then left me to cool my heels until the Real doctor would come in to look me over. The nicest thing about having your vocal chords examined is that you remain fully clothed. There is none of that uncomfortable business of getting undressed and stacking your clothes on a chair in proper order so none of your unmentionables are visible. Sort of like, you weren't really wearing them when you came in.

Anyway, the good doctor made his appearance and there I was in a tiny cubicle of an office with 4 doctors (that's right 4... well, 2 med students and 2 doctors) to inspect my vocal chords. The room seemed too close. We had to leave this first room and go to another one which contained the TV monitors and sound equipment. Down the hall we went in our convoy of 5. And who said this wouldn't be any fun.

The doctor sprayed some numbing stuff up my nose because that is how they would get the camera down to my vocal chords. I had to wait a few seconds so we could chat a bit and become better acquainted before they began getting intimate with my voice box. The doctor handed me a microphone (seriously, a microphone) then said, "I am going to give you a short story to read. I want to see how your vocal chords move as you read."

"Really," I said, "I thought maybe we were going to sing karaoke." He chuckled, "well, maybe we'll do that when we finish up here." Then I chuckled and let him know he probably wouldn't want me singing, mike or no mike. So, the process began. I got to read the story a bit then make a lot of eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee sounds and ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhs and Ha, ha ha... and hee hee hees. Then it was over. There was some chatting it up between him and his #1 doc and questions to his students. They seemed to all be having a great old time and in perfect agreement with him on everything.

When they got through "conferring" the good doctord told me this:

1. I had an infection on my vocal chords. This was why they appeared white. (I got to see them on the TV monitors too) One was worse than the other. This is a common side effect people have who use Advair on a daily basis as I do. I would be given a script to kill the stuff and he would make a recommendation to my primary care doctor concerning this. During his discussion regarding his letter to my doctor, I decided all by myself that I'd just quit using the damn stuff. It costs too much anyway.

Step one. Check. That's done

2. The vocal chords are muscles. Just like other muscles if not used they become weakened. Weekend athletes learn they cannot workout all at once without suffering the consequences. They have to remain in shape and keep in shape. IN OTHER WORDS, PEOPLE! He told me my biggest problem was that I wasn't talking enough. That's right. Since I had retired, I had stopped talking as much and my vocal chords had weakened. He recommended that I read aloud at home, practice using my diaphragm and would probably begin to observe that talking would become increasingly easier and easier. WELL! KNOCK MY SOCKS OFF! I got a free pass. The doctor told me to talk. No! I will not shut up. I have to talk. Listen. I'm just following doctor's orders, so talk I will.

Don't you just love it? No?

Step two. I shall work on it... and enjoy every minute.

3. Then he told me he wants me back in 6 weeks to see how I am doing. Really? Come back here? To this SUPER HUGE place with its 10,000 parking ramps. Humph. You think it's necessary?

Step Three We'll just have to wait and see about that one. I've got an appointment. Maybe.

Organ Donor?

Mom hasn't driven for years but has kept an active driver's license to use for ID purposes. It was easy to maintain since Michigan lets a person renew by mail every other time. This was the time she had to go in and take the test to get a new license. I knew this would not work and we decided instead she should just get the Michigan ID.

So this morning we went to the Secretary of State's office to get her an ID. We pulled our number tag and took a seat. Mom always reads any word she sees. I always ignore it. This time she was reading a sign adhered to the back of the seat across from us. "Sign up today to become an organ donor". Then she said, "I don't want to be a donor."

Me; not paying attention. "I don't have any organs I want to donate." Now she has my attention: I'm thinking, "huh?". I have that organ at the house I thought I'd donate to Jamelah." (me really confused now. I can read the sign... but I can't figure out what organ she has at home to she had ever planned to donate to Jamelah).

Then she continued: "She was interested int taking music lessons and I thought I'd give it to her then".

Light dawns. She is talking about a piano. A beautiful Baldwin. She bought it when Jamelah was a kid and taking piano lessons. I am not going to explain to her that the organ on the sign has nothing to do with music. I'm just going to enjoy the moment.