Back in the USA
That Little Voice
It’s been an interesting, and stressful, couple of weeks as I returned to the states for my annual visit to doctors of all sorts.
This yearly trek puts me in physical touch with my stepdaughter, her husband, and my step-son, as well as a cadre of physicians waiting to prod, poke, and scare the well developed stuffing out of me with all the ‘maybes’ they offer.
In a three week span, I will fill out something close to 400 pages of questionnaires, get a number of shots, have a camera shoved down my throat, get connected to various apparatuses to measure who knows what, find out my hearing is failing faster than I am aging, my eyesight is shot, arthritis isn’t fun, more crowns are needed to chew my food, but, gosh, I look healthy on the outside.
One interesting tid-bit I have learned is your name isn’t optional to medical folks. They want only your birthdate. That date has always been personally important to me, but I’m wondering if I’m going to be getting birthday cards and Facebook messages from a bunch of people I don’t know.
There are excellent docs in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, but this trip affords me the opportunity to get second and third opinions so I can troop back to my casita for a needed rest after rushing from one form-filling-out appointment to another.
The good news is my kids are keen on preparing and serving fabulous meals, something that is not on my ‘talent’ list. They are creative in the kitchen, know how to cook on a grill, find pleasure in sitting at a table and talking, and creating laughter. No wonder I come back. Oh, and did I mention they speak English.
I’ve been in Mexico for 6 or 7 years, and my Spanish vocabulary is limited to ‘Hola’ (Hello), and Buen Dia (Good Morning). The rest of my conversations in the native language of Mexico is sign language with my arms waving around in the air or a drawing of my desired product. For a non-artist, that can be a bit iffy in getting what you want. But, I’ve managed not being kicked out of any establishment for an obscene gesture. Mexicans recognize the struggles of people who can’t learn a new language.
I still have a plethora of days left in my visit and only five more health checks to go, that is, unless someone decides I need something else checked, just in case.
I will return to SMA with a new computer that I don’t understand, a few new t-shirts, fresh pairs of shoes and socks, new glasses, a clean throat, and ever-increasing balances on my credit cards.
And of course, more wonderful memories of my time with family to share with friends. It was worth all the poking and prodding.
Oh yes, that and new friends to delete from my online acquaintances. It’s a fulltime job keeping up with all these people I don’t know.