This one’s for you, Janet.
You may wonder who this Dr. Blood Lite is, and how I named him without consulting you first, my dear readers. This time I didn’t need your help, thanks to a comment on a previous doctor-naming post. In that comment, a beloved beer connoisseur, who would never imbibe the beer of the masses, came up with this perfect name.
If you haven’t yet put one and one together, Dr. Blood Lite is Dr. Blood’s locum for her sabbatical. He is a lovely young doctor and, since he’s been trained by Dr. Blood, I know he’s learned from the best. Dr. Blood had told us she had considered her replacement carefully, and she hit the jackpot. Dr. B.L. seems calm and kind and he even introduced himself using his first name. You know how I like to be on a first-name basis with my physicians. It gives me a false sense of collegiality.
Although I did not recognize the newbie, we had met once before when I was an inpatient on the hospital’s palliative unit. Do you recall that hospital stay, the one where the hematology unit was full so I ended up lodging with the dying people? I could not remember him but J. clearly recalled Dr. B.L.’s Edmonton Oilers lanyard. In fact, I envision her hijacking my future appointments to talk about McJesus. That Dr. B.L. could remember our brief encounter is a miracle on par with McJesus’s MVP performance last year.
Back to my health for a moment. Dr. B.L. told me that, if my blood work is to be believed, I am holding steady on all fronts. This is good news. There are no significant changes since last visit, which means I will stay on my current treatment plan.
My blood work did not explain my appetite loss, which was a relief. I had pretended I wasn’t worried about my disinterest in food, but I was lying, as you probably suspected. I may have a perfectly reasonable medication-related explanation for the pounds melting off me, but as a graduate of the School of Something Could Always Be Seriously Wrong, I’ve still wondered whether my liver might be tanking. As of today, I worry no more. My liver is a-okay.
Despite my apparent well-being, Dr. B.L. was alarmed by my rapid weight loss. So alarmed, in fact, that he said something that no doctor has ever said to me before: he told me to start eating more. He forbid me from losing any more weight and said he expects me to pack on a few pounds by the next time I see him. He even suggested ways I might increase my caloric intake.
My inside voice could not help but giggle in response to Dr. B.L.’s concern. I wanted to say, “Do you realize who you are talking to? I am a glutton! Cookie Monster is my doppelganger. Or is it Miss Piggy? Whatever, you’ve got me all wrong, doc.” Instead, I listened respectfully and told the doctor I would take his concerns under advisement. Yes, I used those words. And he smiled, just a little. I think we’re going to get along.
Now I must force feed myself some dinner. Doctor’s orders.