This time last week, I was in full freak out mode. In a moment of complete and utterly ridiculous melodrama, I wrote a post declaring (in between the lines) I had months…days…minutes to live.  After reading it and concerned our family might join my freak-outedness, my husband asked me to revise it.  I did.  The symptoms were numbness and burning in my hands and feet, severe swelling, and itching on my extremities; I barely noticed the latter because the former felt like mini firecrackers exploding out the ends of my fingers.  <— not a melodramatic over-exaggeration…!


On Sunday, because I don’t have an internist or family doctor (don’t judge me…when I moved to Tennessee EVERY confounded doctor I tried to make an appointment with was NOT taking new patients…so I’ve always relied on Docs in Boxes…), a friend/doctor insisted I come see him the next day.  He could see the fear in my eyes and my gargantuanly swollen hands and feet.  He couldn’t see the itch.

I told him I’d come but I didn’t need a physical exam and most certainly was NOT taking off any clothes or coming close to a hospital gown.  He rolled his eyes and gave me that sad, tired doctor line, "Honey, you don’t have anything I haven’t already seen…don’t flatter yourself,"  but I held my ground. 

Okay, he didn’t even come close to saying that, but I bet he was thinkin’ it. 

It’s important to know he was my FRIEND first, his wife is a friend, and he leads worship in our Sunday school class.   I figured if we needed to do anything "invasive", he’d refer me to one of his partners.

When I arrived for my appointment on Monday, he greeted me with a smile, introduced me to his nurse, casually motioned for me to go ahead of him to the exam room, and said he’d be in shortly.

As I walked into the room, it was clear he had "prepared" for my visit:


Nothin’ breaks the ice like lu-bri-ca-shee-oooown, yes?   As the surprise wore off inside the room, I could hear him laughing outside the room.

Needless to say, I burned the gloves, gown and companion "tools" in effigy on his front lawn.

Oh, and my diagnosis?  Anemia…after testing for everything else on the planet, looks like I’ve just got a case of bad blood.

(Thanks to those of you who’ve continued to ask how I’m doing!  I like YOU best of all!!! 😉 )

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