I'm closing down 2008 by getting all of my ducks in a row for a healthier 2009.
A buddy has already facilitated my first medical appointment of the new year: an MRI at 7:15 Friday morning. The last MRI left me a little rickety and I'm not eager to slide into another Easy-Bake Oven to be cooked with radiation for an hour. But my head and neck doctor and the team of neurologists want to see images of my tongue and jaw that only an MRI can produce, so the sooner I get that done for them, the better.
Who knows what surprises may be in store for me in MRI Imaging Center in the basement of Kaiser's Building G on Friday? The last time, a young blond woman positioned me into the tubular MRI gizmo and took a seat by the machine as I went inside. When I emerged from the tube an hour later, she had transmogrified into a burly black guy.
My buddy made the appointment for me after Kaiser called and left a message on my voice mail to call them back. Within rigor mortis setting in on my jaw, my vocabulary has been reduced to three words. It's a godsend to have someone in my life who is willing to field phone calls from Kaiser and make appointments for me.
I typically let calls on my cell go to voice mail, but when the phone rings at home, I often pick up. If I'm lucky, a telemarketer is calling and I can have a little fun by answering all of his or her questions by humming "Shave and a Haircut."
As I was writing this, Kaiser phoned to tell me that the results of my last MRI were negative. That is good news, but I'm hoping that the MRI coming up on Friday will produce some kind of clue about what's going on with me, and how it can be treated.