I have a friend who will remain anonymous. She has read my articles for the past 20 years and had already declared last month’s conversation as article worthy. Literally, she gave me the look like, “You are going to use this as an article,” not as a question but as a statement. With a wink, I told her that this is not the first time I have used her cute-isms, as my wife and l like to call them, as inspirations for an article.
My wife and I have known “L” and her family for a long time. Our kids have grown up together and we view them as family. L looks at the world differently. She is a teacher and a mother and takes care of everyone around her. When her kids or her dog Mello have an issue, she has them diagnosed and treated like a protective mother might, but she also has the tendency to forget about herself.
L has a family history of high blood pressure and heart disease. She hadn’t seen a doctor in years, and at her last physical she was informed that her physician wanted her to see a cardiologist to work up her high blood pressure and new heart murmur. L’s husband called to tell me the news that L vehemently did not want to be discussed with anyone. She told her husband that her physician is an alarmist and came up with a hundred excuses, from caffeine to stress to weight gain, for why her blood pressure was elevated.
L is an amazing pet owner. Mello has been to my hospital for ACL surgery, tumor removals, emergency dental abscesses, and even once he ate those toxic crayons that the babysitter brought over. If there was a problem with Mello, it was addressed quickly and without question.
Mello was in the hospital for a bath and his biannual examination days after I had talked to L’s husband. It was a weekly routine. L picked up Mello after work. She bought herself a medium iced coffee at the coffee shop and brought me one as well. I asked my receptionist to put L in an examination room.
I walked in and told L that during my examination of Mello, I found a new heart murmur. I told her that I had never heard one before in Mello. I also told her that I ran some bloodwork and checked his blood pressure. L repeatedly shook her head and was notably concerned. She wanted to know if I had any results, and I told her that the bloodwork results would be in tomorrow, and his blood pressure was elevated.
L wanted to know if I needed to do an EKG or take chest X-rays, and I told her that I would feel better if she went to the cardiologist because they are the experts, and if there is a problem then they usually recommend an echocardiogram. L took out her notebook to write down the cardiologist’s name and number. She told me that nothing could happen to Mello. He is so important to the family and losing him only midway through what she considered his life expectancy would be devastating.
I looked at her and gave her a hug. I told her that Mello was fine. He was perfect. L was confused. I told her that I had just talked to her husband, and he told me about her heart murmur and high blood pressure. I told her that she should attack her issues with the passion she had for Mello, because her family, students, and friends could not bear losing her midway through her life expectancy.
L was actually more relieved about Mello than angry with me for having the intervention. She walked out of the examination room smiling but telling me that turning 50 sucks.