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Destinations, Dreams and Dogs - International adventure with a fast-track family (& dogs) of Old World values, adopting the Russian-Italian-American good life on the go…!

The News was Greatly Exaggerated

female-doctor-sprayThe day had come. After months of snowstorms, and other delays, my command performance with my doctor had arrived. She wanted to see me. She was concerned.

I won’t go into all of the details, but she was not the only one concerned. When I finally presented myself in the office, the receptionists informed me that the doctor was not in.

“You were called,” they explained. “She’s not in today.”

I carefully explained that I would not be standing before them in yet another snowstorm if I had indeed been called and told that the doctor was not in. Perhaps I should reschedule, I offered?

“No,” they shook their heads, looking this way and that. “She’s thsick, very sick, and will not be in for months….”

The news hit me like a ton of bricks. I mean, doctors are not supposed to become ill, very ill, seriously ill, so ill that they will be flat on their back for months and unable to see you.

But there I was. So the receptionists scrambled and asked if I’d like to possibly see another doctor if she were available.

medical-proceduresPulling up her name on the phone, the internet had only good things to say about her. She sounded like a winner. So in I went.

Then she became concerned. Very concerned. There were unusual things occurring in my body, which, of course, I already knew because I happen to live there, too. The doctor’s gloved hand can discover little news that moi doesn’t already know.

She ordered tests, many tests and told me to make three appointments: one for medieval torture minor_operationtests that must be against the Geneva Convention if not the American Constitution; the second to learn the results of such excruciating and invasive tests; and the third for a surgical biopsy which would most likely be necessary based on the test results and would take too long to schedule if I decided to wait until we really knew what was happening.

Beyond those first three appointments, she could likely recommended further procedures such as X, Y, or Z. All well and fine, except that I was not on board for even A, B, or C.

interventional_radiologist_procedureWe spent a lot of time in prayer, that’s for sure. I experienced more than a few nightmares: our dogs escaping, trees falling on our house during a storm, going to see new houses of various styles, you know, anything relating to stress, upheaval, bad situations, and threats to your identity….

At last, it was testing day. Difficult. Hard to explain (slightly) to the kids. They were confused enough. Some were praying for positive test results, while the rest were praying for negative test results. I knew what they meant and was sure the Lord did, too.

Off to the university hospital medical center I went. By law, those performing the tests could not xray4give me the results, they would need to send them to my new doctor and have her break the news, be it good or bad. And that would be weeks from now.

Happily, the technician took the tests to be read by a doctor just to see that they had not overlooked anything. I while away the time looking at every monitor and snapping selfies of my own hieroglyphic test results, trying to make sense of any of it. When he returns, the Muslim man with whom I have shmoozed for the past thirty minutes graciously lets it slip that he knows of nothing out of the ordinary.

Thank you, Jesus.

It’s not official. I know nothing, but as Mark Twain once remarked, “The news of my death was greatly exaggerated.”

I pledge to continue to live my life for the good of humanity and stick around to a ripe, old age.


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2 Comments : Leave a Reply

  1. avatar Leah says:

    Oh my, oh my! Take care of yourself Alexandra! You had me scared there. Probably had yourself scared. G-d is good and we’re happy to hear the good news! Be well.

    • avatar admin says:

      Thanks, Leah. You’re right, we can all be scared at times and if it moves us to positive action that’s good. But fear itself is painful and exhausting. I am glad to know the Burden-lifter! 🙂 Thanks for the encouragement!

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