NL #17: If it's not one thing, it's two.

NL #17: "If it's not one thing, it's two." This is one of our ninety year-old neighbor Annabella's favorite expressions. She also likes, "Hey, girl!" (which is how she greets me and our disturbingly realistic Appalachian doll that I call Grandma). She's also prone to saying, "Get me a beer."

Yesterday, when I told Ann about my tmj (a jaw problem), she replied, "If it's not one thing, it's six." I do believe that I've been in all of the departments at Group Health except the maternity ward. I've been to see my primary physician, neurosurgeons (they had great halloween pumpkin carvings), opthamology, oncology, radiology, acupunture, physical therapy, the bowel specialist (not many folks will admit to that, but you and I don't keep secrets), the hearing specialist, x-rays, the records department (I now require two cds) and the list goes on.

This week I've added naturopathy, cranio-sacral therapy (following again in the footsteps of my younger sister), a tmj specialist, and a massage therapist. I can hardly wait for next week.

Before these brain tumors, I was unusually healthy. I averaged a trip to the hospital once a decade. The first time was at birth in Grady Hospital in Atlanta. (I ws born in the white wing and my parents used the white entrance. That was some time ago.) The second time I split my lip jumping on my parents bed in Wichita Falls, TX and had to get stitches. The third time I lost control of my limbs after waterskiing on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington and the fourth time, I broke my pinkie playing basketball in Seattle (I went to one session of PT for it. Other patients were in wheelchairs, wearing neck braces and such. I was too embarrassed about my pinkie, so I didn't ever go again.)

I know I seemed like a good bet when my insurance company first covered me, but I'm pretty sure they're losing money on me. I'm sorry about that, but I sure am lucky to have all these people who know something and seem to want me to feel better.

Mary