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Good morning!
I couldn't wait to tell you about this office visit, but I had to because I promised only one email a week. Anyway, here it goes - crazy!!
So, last Monday I'm all excited because I've got Michael Hunter scheduled for 9:45 in my office (his real name is John Prystowski, but I have to say a fake name and time (was really Tuesday, 4/9/13 at 8:45) because of HIPAA (Privacy Act)). It's a routine yearly follow-up, but Megan (my RN) told me he had a lot to share.
"Hey John! I mean Michael. What's up? You look great!"
Michael's wife, Connie (really Mary Lou), was sitting immediately next to him. I'd only seen her twice over the years, but I could've sworn she looked younger as well.
"Dr. Dave, it's all non-cardiac but it started pretty soon after I left your office last year. I've just about told everyone else, so I might as well tell you. You're not going to believe this.
"You know how you've been on me for years to get active and Lou's wait?"(purposefully misspelled to avoid spam filters).
To set the stage, Michael had, in his own words, "let (him)self go" over the last 8-10 years. I shared with him numerous times that I was worried about the course he was on. He sits in the room now, 53 years old, 5'8" and 235 lbs (247 in April '12).
"Shortly after our last visit," he looked over at Connie, "Was it a month?"
"Three and a half weeks," she said nodding her head.
"Anyway, I started noticing things. Weird things." he resumed.
"Like what?!" I was on the edge of my seat, smiling in anticipation of a good story (Hopefully it was better than this one, David).
"You know how I've taken 2-3 ibuprofen a day for years?"
"Sure, your trick knee from playing ball at Swarthmore. We'd been talking about you cutting back and switching to naproxen (better for the ticker)"
"Some day last July, I realized I hadn't taken an Advil in months."
"Anyway, I hadn't told you, but I've been sneaking cigarettes for years. Anytime something stressful came up, I'm out to the garage, and well, you know..."
Connie looks at Megan and me, "Everyday" she says.
"Now I haven't smoked for 8 and a half months," he leans over to give me a high-five. His hand's dirty, but there's Purell in the room and I'm really happy for him.
"Then on May 30th, we got back from our walk. Oh yeah, by the way the wife and I started taking the dog for a walk for 20-30 minutes after dinner. Sometimes, we go for 45 minutes or an hour. You know, kind of like that stupid Walk with a Dog program you do," he chortles.
"Now Michael, that's not nice" she jumps in with her soft southern accent.
"Well we get back from our walk and the clock reads 5:25. The darn clock reads 5:25!"
I look over at Connie, confused.
"We always, always start dinner at 5:30. Done so for years," she shares.
"I'm staring at the clock and the DANG THINGS ARE MOVIN' BACKWARDS!"
Connie adds, "We've had three different repairmen out to the house. None of them can stop these clocks from moving backwards."
"Then, catch this. A couple months ago I went to see, Dr. Igo, my family doc. She walked into the room holding my chart, all silent like, squinting at me all cross-eyed. She didn't say nothin'"
"Scared us to death," shared Connie.
"Scared me to DEATH. She said my hemoglobin A1C (measurement to assess diabetic control), my LDL, and my blood pressure have all totally normalized. I told my nurse she gave me the wrong chart, she said. She reran my labs and they matched perfectly. She said it's as if I'd overtaken someone else's body."
"Like a zombie apocalypse?" I quickly added. I was mesmerized by what was transpiring.
"No, I don't think so."
Awkward pause.
"Anyway, she said in 31 years of practicing medicine, she ain't never seen anything close to it."
"A couple months ago some neighbor friends threw me a surprise party. The cake said Happy 47th Michael in big, bold blue icing."
Connie jumped in, "They were all at his 50th in 2010. They all know his age."
"When I tried to correct them, they just laughed at me. Then Billy, the shy sandy-haired kid down the street grabs my arm, pulls it down and whispers, "Keep this up and next year you'll be 43."
Dr. Dave, I tell you what. Sure as the sun will rise tomorrow, he meant it."
Right at this moment in the visit, a thick wall of black clouds rolls in like a freight train. Soon after, lightning bolts were thrown across the sky in every possible direction. The fishbowled corner office made it feel like we were experiencing the whole thing in HD. I looked up and our wall clock read 8:31; we walked in at 8:45.
"Keep what up?" I asked.
"Huh? Oh, the boy. Like I said, I got no idea what's going on. We've gone over it a million times. The only thing we done differently, the ONLY thing (his right index finger raised to emphasize importance) is take little Muffin Cakes on a walk after dinner."
Connie smiles.
I'm looking at this guy and the dude looks young!
"So, Doc. Whaddya think about them apples? Pretty friggin' weird, huh?"
"What do I think?
What do I think?
You started out by saying it's non-cardiac. You bet your *** it's cardiac! Little muffie cakes is sav..."
"Doc!" he interrupts, "it's Muff-IN Cakes. Muff-IN Cakes."
"Muff-in Cakes saved your life. That's why we do Walk with a Doc - it's the cure."
"But, doc - clocks spinning backwards?"
Our office clock now read 8:22.
"Did you think I' kidding when I say it's the Fountain of Youth? I've seen stranger things happen."
"Well, doc, Megan - Connie and I say thanks."
We all look over at Megan who's sitting on our beige leather swivel stool in the corner of the exam room. Normally she'd be transcribing, but here she sits, legs crossed at the ankles, looking to the sky, and lighting a cigarette.
"MEGAN?!!"
In one continuous motion she stands, puts out the cigarette, reaches into her white lab coat and pulls out a Milk-Bone, flipping it perfectly to Connie.
"Don't thank us; thank Muffin Cakes," she shares as she slips out of the room.
Megan's cool like that.
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