When Harry Met Lynn

(Thanks for the idea, Leslie.)

As a follow up to the cliffhanger of Meet Harry, I thought it only fair to let you in on how this story ends - or how I think it ends.

I'll never see Harry again.

Crushed? Disappointed? Waiting for a happy ending? Well, put your handkerchief away. Truth is, I generally don't go to the doctor enough for her (or him) to remember me or our last visit. What that means is I'm generally a healthy person and the only reason in the past to see my doctor is because I have to do those annual or biannual things that one has to do when one reaches a certain age. (Seems the older I get, the more they need to check up on me to make sure my parts aren't wearing out and to give me the okay for another two years and 10,000 miles before my next checkup.)

Until, of course, I needed to go I didn't really care who my doctor was.

Since my birthday (October) I've seen two chiropractors, one massage therapist, two acupuncturists, three physical therapists, two primary care physicians, one physician's assistant, one anesthesiologist, one surgeon and his assistant, one lab technician (on three separate occasions), two MRI technicians, three radiologists, and one spine specialist. The total is 21, if you were counting. That excludes all my traction appointments (seven), phone consultations, nurses, pharmacists, and administrative people (including a Patient Advocate). This also excludes any time I spent researching on the web, or my husband's time driving me to all my appointments to pick up my prescriptions.

The point is this. With any luck my health will be drastically improved sometime in the very near future and I will go back to seeing my doctor almost never. My checkups generally fall under the category of Women's Health and I see someone else for that so I won't be seeing my "regular" doctor again before he retires. Although he's just taken the position of Chief of my local clinic a year and one half ago, he's 65 now. I'm sure he'll continue to practice medicine for the next several years but if I'm lucky it won't be on me.

So long, Harry. It was nice knowing you.