Monday, April 30, 2012

Tomorrow I head over to some part of Maimonides for a pre test to make sure my heart and lungs can handle my surgical biopsy coming up on May 7.  Honestly, I try not to think of it.  My annual mammogram and sonogram were in early March, followed by a biopsy, followed by a consult, followed by an MRI, followed by a pretest and then the surgery.  Finally, there will be another consult to tell me the good or bad news.  Are you counting? This is 7 different occasions that I had to change my life for the convenience of the medical community.  In terms of income, I will have missed a total of 8 jobs to do this putting me out of $600 minimally, more likely it is closer to $800. But I should be grateful, right?  The radiologist told me, "Oh it's probably nothing; just want to check those same old calcifications we've been seeing on your mammo for the last 4 years".  Turns out I have an atypical lobular hyperplasia in one of the tissue samples.  The doctor says, "Good news; it's not cancer!"--but it is a precancerous condition, so hey let's do another biopsy!  Did I hear him say "radiation" too? In contrast, all the letters that come in the mail from the medical center are very foreboding--"Danger, danger, Will Robinson!"  I am almost always on my hands and knees scrubbing a toilet (seriously) when they call to give me more news.  Well, pray for me; I really don't want any more troubles...............

Sunday, April 1, 2012

April Fool

It was April 1, 1988 when I moved into Brooklyn, NY from Utica, Michigan. I left work at the Otsikita Council of Girl Scouts in Michigan after 5pm and drove all night, arriving somewhere on the Triboro Bridge around 7 something in the morning. It was probably a mistake to drive into NYC after driving all night, because I had only been to New York once before and had never driven here. This was a time when cell phones did not exist and it wasn't as easy to find an ATM machine while you were on the road! Needless to say I was punchy, didn't have any money left in my pocket and was lost driving back and forth on the various roads that connected the boroughs to the bridge. Finally I got to the correct toll booth and was headed in the correct direction, but didn't have any money, was so frustrated I got out of the car and started pounding on it and yelling that I had no money and didn't know what to do. Yes, the nice toll booth person let me through without paying and I finally found my way to Ft Green Place in the section of Brooklyn they call Ft Greene. And, the rest, as they say, is history. Just another New York story.