Things Fall Apart

Regardless of who won the election, my body continues to fall apart. Its latest affliction is something called a Baker's Cyst, which has nothing to do with baking. I won't go into the details because, let's face it, if you want them you can just Google it.

It's annoying to say the least and horrifying to say the most to discover a lump on your body where no lump should be or has been before. Lest your imagination run wild, I will say the offending protuberance is right out there in the open behind my left knee and not tucked into some darkened, hidden recess. Nevertheless, fearing it could be cancer or worse, whatever worse is, I had the knee-jerk reaction--ha, ha no pun intended--I always have in medical emergencies and called my physician for an appointment. He was booked, naturally, since everyone else's bodies are falling apart too, but I managed to get one with the on-site Physician's Assistant. And while a P.A. is not an M.D., they are still some initials, which certainly seemed better than none at all.

Jodie--she asked me to call her that--diagnosed my problem immediately, which made me feel better about her not really being a doctor. In fact, she spoke so authoritatively on the subject that I wondered if she had majored in Baker's Cysts in medical school, or if she even went to medical school. (I didn't ask.) Her treatment protocol was instantly to my liking: "Get used to it." Jodie went on to explain that it's quite a common ailment and that most people adjust and eventually forget they have it. This is the same treatment I use for my tinnitus, which showed up about ten years ago. After a thorough examination by an ear specialist, involving wind tunnels and earphones and whistles, the guy--and remember, he was a specialist--told me to "try to ignore it."

I am planning to use this same advice concerning our newly re-elected president. I'm hoping it works.