I went to the doctor again this morning, and the bottom line is (he said), “Whatever you’re doing is working, so keep doing it.”
I have lost nine pounds in three months, my kidneys aren’t problematic anymore, my blood pressure is mostly under control, except for when I have to write about anyone named “Clinton,” and I’m taking antibiotics for some sort of infection in my innards. I ride my bike most days, and try very hard to relax, totally, at night. I also post a lot of cat videos: what can it hurt?
Of course, I could adopt a much more spartan way of life and eat nothing but strictly healthy foods. That would certainly make it seem like I was living longer! But I say enough is enough–and anyway, let’s get these other issues squared away first, all right?
I do have a doctor who cites prayer as a real aid to life and health. I like that.
I have already blown my stack once this morning, and I would rather not do it again.
Got a call from the doctor’s office. I had that scan on Monday, and at that time I was told everything was okay with my internal organs. The technician did add, “You have a cyst or two, but that’s nothing–everybody gets them, as they age.”
So I get this mysterious call from the doctor, saying I’d better come in ASAP to consult about my scan. Now I can’t just throw several hours every week into a doctor’s waiting room, but I was compelled to wonder, “What the hell is this? What’s wrong with me now? What was there in the scan that the tech didn’t tell me about?”
Well, the doctor wants to talk about the cysts. I made the office manager tell me there was nothing in the scan report that hinted at cancer or some other disaster. But first I had to hit the ceiling before he would enlighten me.
Now, I believe the technician because she does this work all day, five days a week, and surely has seen more internal cysts than anyone who does not do what she does. She saw mine and said they were nothing.
Doctors have this habit of cloaking the most mundane information in mystery, which seems like to me a super-good way to alarm the patient and get him imagining all sorts of dire tidings. Even a dentist doesn’t know how to scare you half so badly as a doctor with his cryptic messages.
So I said I could not possibly make an extra trip to his office, and whatever he wants to say about my cysts can wait until my regularly scheduled appointment next week.
And now I have to go to the nursing home to see about Aunt Joan and discuss her care–so enough is enough.
Check out how this little lizard escapes from the big, bad snake, who winds up highly confused and annoyed. The lizard’s scientific name is Draco volans, which means “Flying Dragon.” It lives in Indonesia and is one more example of God’s cool stuff which we call “nature” when we should be calling it “creation.”
I am showing this video to calm myself down after getting interrupted in my work by a summons to jury duty. I will have to get a note from my doctor to get me out of it: my blood pressure just won’t stand it. Up at the crack of dawn, central Jersey traffic, hang around the jury room all day long, and then more Jersey traffic. Repeat the process for as many days as the trial takes. And watch my head explode. No thanks!
Well, here it is, 2:30, and I’m back from my 10:30 doctor’s appointment. No bike ride for me today. No work on my new book, either.
But the doctor is very pleased with my progress, vis-a-vis blood pressure. Then he noticed my T-shirt, adorned with a picture of Scipio Africanus, and asked about it. This resulted in my learning he was not a Christian, after all (I thought he was), and his asking, with a show of great interest, about Christianity and the Apostle Paul. He says he wants to learn more, much more. May the Holy Spirit provide him with a good teacher.
Anyhow, this was about the last thing I would have expected, after sitting an hour and a half in the waiting room being tortured by daytime TV. Like, I was there to be ministered to by the doctor, and wound up ministering to him.
So… yesterday afternoon I sat down and started writing the next book of my Bell Mountain series: that would be Book No. 10, with No. 9, The Throne, currently being edited and hopefully to be published this year.
I don’t have a title for this new one yet, but one will come to me. What I do have, meanwhile, is an opening chapter that has me all pumped up. And that’s really all I need to get started. God gives me the story in pieces. I just put them together.
All I had to do was pick up my pen and start writing on my legal pad–and it was like I’d never been away. Wonderful!
P.S.–I went to the doctor this morning, and he was very pleased with my progress. I think I’m out of danger of popping my cork. He asked me about various things in my life, including my work, and he said a project like writing a novel will actually be good for me.
Well, that makes me happy, and to God be the glory.
And the sun has just come out, and that means it’s time for me to get back out there and write some more!
Okay, Erlene, here’s one of the hymns you asked for, Hold to God’s Unchanging Hand. I hope you don’t mind this upbeat version performed by the Alfred Street Baptist Church choir.
I just took my blood pressure, after enjoying my bike ride, a crazy story by P.G. Wodehouse, a banana, and an orange, and the result put me in the mood for a celebratory hymn like this. It’s still a bit too high, but today it’s down 40 points (!) from where it was two weeks ago.
No one will object, I think, if I make a joyful noise unto the Lord.
The bad news is, I have to take more medicines. When my wife saw the list, she issued dire warnings of potentially drastic side effects. I wish she hadn’t.
The good news, if I may call it that, is that the doctor says there’s nothing wrong with me that three months or so of treatment can’t put right. Provided the medicines don’t turn me into the Wolf Man or something, I guess.
Please keep the prayers coming. All I want is to get back to normal. I have a new book to write, once the weather starts cooperating.
Anyhow, I came home and rode my bike, and now I want a cigar.