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HELLO
MY NAME IS


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If you find yourself amid a group of strangers in a social setting, say at a wedding reception, and for whatever reason there is no one conducting introductions, will you introduce yourself? I usually will find some kind of remark appropriate for whatever is going on, usually with some degree of humor to kind of gauge the mood of the group and then introduce myself. I have always "tested" new acquaintances in a similar way, just to find out if joking around will be acceptable to that person or persons. I do the same thing with propriety, and then conform to whatever seems acceptable in the situation. I don't know if I said that right but I think you know what I mean. I "feel out" the group and then behave appropriately. (Or not, depending on my mood or level of alcohol injested... *wink*) Following is an example of this, I will try to keep it short.

Quite a few years ago I developed a ganglion cyst on my wrist. My doctor referred me to a surgeon for an examination. When he stalked into the examining room, one look at the man gave me a sense that I would not be joking around in my usual way, not even a little. He was a smallish, bookish-looking man with thick glasses, not much chin, a receding hairline, heavy brows, and a pasty pale complexion and a stern, no-nonsense expression. He looked to be aboot sixty and stood poker straight and seemed to be completely stiff. He held my chart in the crook of his arm much as a student might carry a textbook. He introduced himself; I, myself and we shook hands. Not terribly firm but being a woman, I rarely receive firm handshakes. I think most men are not sure how much strength to exert when shaking a woman's hand. I wish they would get over that. I think I surprise some men with the firmness of my own. Handshake. Anyway...
He examined my wrist, asked numerous questions which I answered respectfully. He told me my options for treatment and I told him that I would like some time to decide how I wished to have it treated or removed, whatever. We agreed that I would schedule another appointment when I had made up my mind. He had never smiled. He picked up my file with one hand, shook my hand with his other and turned to leave. He had one hand on the doorknob when I said, "Excuse me, Doctor. I have one more question. What causes these cysts?" His face relaxed into an easy grin. "In this case, I would have to say high intelligence and good looks." He winked and closed the door behind him.

Blew me away. Anyway, the cyst went away on it's own.

The last medical procedure he did for me was a colonoscopy. Just before I lost "awareness," I remember asking him if I could have another pillow under my shoulder. "What kind of insurance do you have?" I told him and he leaned over and said "Sorry kid, they only cover one pillow." I think I had three when I woke up...

"Jonathan," as he allowed me to call him, became my surgeon of choice for many years until he (regretfully for me) retired and moved out West. Where I'm sure he's still wearing this get-up, as he was the day I hugged him and wished him all the best in his retirement. I still miss him.

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