Before I jump into the me, me, me stuff, I would like to pour out a 40 for one of the greatest songwriters of all time, Warren Zevon. I didn’t know that he shared a birthday (Jan 24) with my bestie from college, but apparently he did. Since I discovered his music when we were at CU, can I pretend he is an old college friend too? I don’t think he’d mind. He certainly wouldn’t say anything about it now.
Well, dammit. Just after 5 this evening, I got a call from my doctor’s assistant. She had been trying to track down the tests I had done over the Christmas break, and now that they have copies in their records too, they expressed concern over what I thought was just an incidental finding on the CT scan. They want me to come in and talk about Yet Another Specialist. I’m pretty sure I didn’t have an ENT doc on my bingo card for this year, but that’s where she’s sending me next. Dr Google made it sound pretty common, the detail she wants looked at, so I’m not scared or anything. I’m just wondering when some drug company will finally take notice of me and sponsor me like a NASCAR driver. It would be nice to get paid for all this running around I’m doing. It’s a full time job keeping up with these appointments. I’m pretty sure eventually there won’t be a doctor in town who hasn’t seen a piece of me.
I think that’s it. I got nothin’ else. I will have to get up and go take a picture of one of the cats or something. Then it might be early bedtime.
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