For the first time in at least two decades I am spending Christmas at home.  No traveling.  But all has worked out well and I've had many confirmations that I made the right decision. 

I was looking through some files yesterday and ran across a poem I wrote more than 20 years ago, but it's never seen the light of day - until today. 

All those years ago I first thought I was experiencing a UTI but it turned out to be much more serious and  eventually required surgery and yearly follow ups for ten years. 

I was very ill and in constant pain but I was fortunate to receive excellent care.  However, my urologist was a grump.  Initially it was Christmas time and he complained about having to work so hard.  I learned that many college students, for whatever reason, needed to see a urologist on Christmas break.  

It was hard to get him to understand that something was very wrong with me.  And when he finally did a procedure and discovered what was really happening, he was angry.  But he was an excellent doctor.  Just grumpy. He's been gone now for many years.  The urologist who took over his patients was also excellent - but not grumpy.  I'm grateful to both of them.

WINTER PARK UROLOGY                                

Long ago, when we would suffer with a complicated  leak,  The words that cheered my soul were,   

"... plumber's come to fix the sink."

Now that my plumbing problems are personal I find,   I sometimes wish my doctor was the warm and fuzzy kind.

But I guess I should be grateful he's a uro-techno geek,   and thankful he's the plumber who's come to fix my sink.

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