A Medical Vacation

The patient Peggy--the Nurse Practitioner to my recently acquired doctor--called Wednesday morning.

"If I tell the desk I want you worked in on my Friday schedule, will you promise to come in?'

"Promise?" Sheesh. I'll bet Kevin gave her a heads up.

I can hear it.

"Yeah, this is Lorri Sweeney's husband. Make her promise. Get a pinky swear out of her if you can."

I like the way Peggy comes in the office door with "I KNOW you hate being here..." At least we're starting out on the same page.

I've been telling Kevin for months that my increasing tiredness is my way of being sympatico to his struggle with chemotherapy fatigue.

We are tired of doctors, labs and all things medical. With the end of Kevin's treatment we are looking forward to a medical vacation. Some period of time with no appointments, no labs, no tests, no procedures.

Turns out I am anemic. Peggy and I negotiated her talk of tests and transfusion down to a prescription for iron supplements and a recheck at the lab in two weeks.

We're going to have some rest around here. Take a medical vacation. And a nap.