doctor, doctor

Kara Kensell looked out the window at Cottonwood Lake from her office where she wrote her novels. Bald eagles were on jags of ice catching fish. The sky, the hills, and the cedars were all in balance with nature and portraying a perfect, beautiful world. Cottonwood Canyon was her special world of solitude and beauty. This was her home...the country...where she got her grounding and her inspiration.

Kara, a dark-haired, brown-eyed woman with pale skin sat anxiously waiting for the phone to ring. It was mid-afternoon Friday.  The results of her tests hadn’t come and it had been nearly a week.  Dr. Hassen’s office would be closing soon.  That would mean she would have to wait until Monday or later for the results.

She sat staring at her computer. Writing was the one thing that kept her sane and gave her a reason to keep going. She popped three aspirin in her mouth and took a drink of water. 

Finally the call came.

“What did you find?” she asked.

“I have good news. Your X-rays were perfect. You’re just fine. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Of course that’s good, but I’m still sick. I still don’t know what is wrong with me. What do I do now?”

There was a long pause before he replied, “You could have exploratory surgery.”

The thought of someone cutting into her without knowing what they were looking for scared her. “How would that help?”

“You’d be surprised what a surgeon can find.”

“I’ve done every test and procedure there is. I’ve driven hundreds of miles to see specialists to no avail. I don’t know what else I can do.”

“Are you under stress? Maybe you should see a psychiatrist.”

“Stressed--out here in the country? You think I’m mentally ill? Kara gasped.

“No--Not exactly. Nevertheless, I think you are imagining your aches and pains.

“My pain is very real. I think I’ll wait on surgery until I know what is wrong.”

Kara hung up the phone. Exploratory surgery was an option she could take any time; the procedure sounded too much like letting someone drive blindfolded.

Her hands shaking, Kara picked up the phone again to call her best friend Ellen Fogerty at Dr. Sheets’ office, hoping she hadn’t left for the day.

“Hi El, do you have time to talk”

“Done for the day.”

“How’s everything with you and Frank?”

“Not too good. He still has his anger problem.”

Kara paused. Now was as good a time to tell her as any. “Eddie’s left me for Ima Jean. At least you have somebody to fight with. We’re separated but divorce is inevitable as soon as my book is launched.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I forgot,” Kara said. “I do have someone to fight with.” She leaned back and laughed. “My lousy agent...Louis Datherage.”

“What did you find out from the doctor?

“Same as always. Nothing. Sometimes I feel like the only thing keeping me alive is aspirin. I’d be better off with a witch doctor.”

“I don’t understand why they haven’t been able to figure it out,” Ellen said.

 “I know. They have a buddy system of passing patients from doctor to doctor to see how much money they can milk from them. It isn’t about helping...it’s about taking advantage of a person that is sick. Pills are expensive and the side effects from them are bad and create new health problems, but don’t fix the one you went to them for. From now on, I won’t go to the doctor unless I’m on a stretcher and dying.”

“Why don’t you see if Dr. Sheets can help you? Please. For me?”

“Maybe if things get so bad that I can’t handle it myself. That’s what I’ve been doing anyway. Self-help. I am sick of being passed around to ‘so-called’ specialists who give me nothing for my money but an empty pocket. I’m sure Dr. Sheets is a very fine doctor, but I’ve had it with doctors. We’ll talk later.”