Here are Mom, Andy, and Me in 1954.
I am in the middle, FYI.
I called Andy after my MRI to give him an update.
Told him the neurologist thinks it will be negative
since my neurological exam (a rather quick go-over, I thought)
where-in complaining of vision problems
(and memory)
(and cognition- stare at the car radio as long as you want,
the car does not back out of the driveway
until it occurs to you to use the gear shift)
I forgot to tell the doc that once I went blind from a concussion.
That seemed perhaps germaine to me
later,
but, Oh well.
I did mention memory.
And the leg that's atrophied from nerve damage
became self evident as I sat there in my gown.
I'd forgotten that too.
So, the neurologist doesn't expect to find anything
on the MRI.
I was updating Andy.
Saying the doctors don't even want to see me for at least six weeks.
Then it's just to check blood pressure.
The neurologist doesn't expect to do a thing more.
It must be chemical
no lesions.
And Andy,
still to me the little boy in this picture,
says,
"Don't worry, Pat. We'll figure it out."
I cannot tell you
how much
that blows my heart
wide open.
Monday, December 10, 2007
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