I called Rahne who took me to Group Health Cooperative my medical provider. I sarcastically referred to Group Health as “Group Shit and Die.” I was able to see a physician’s assistant who reviewed my symptoms and examined my leg.
“Well really, it’s not clear what’s going on. I’m afraid you’ll have to see your regular doctor.”
“What should I do about walking in the mean time?”
“I suppose you should probably get a cane.”
“Can Group Health give me one?”
“No, but you can rent one just up the street.”
In my mind, I heard a British accent, “Ah, well, there you go. Nothing much we can do for you today. Do get a cane. It would be very nasty for you to fall. Can you come back in a week? Well then good, have a nice day.”
I made an appointment early the next week to see my general physician and rented a cane.
* * * * * * *
(YOU DO REALIZE, OF COURSE, THAT I’M AFRAID TO WRITE ABOUT NOT WALKING. Really, and why is that? YOU DUNCE. I’M AFRAID OF A RELAPSE OR REOCCURRENCE OR WHATEVER YOU WOULD CALL IT. Well, I’m glad to hear you are afraid of something. Always marching in where angels fear to tread. Ha! Do you think I’d feel sorry for you if you had a relapse? “Woke up and accidentally forgot to walk, did you? So, sorry.” THANK YOU FOR THE EMOTIONAL SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGEMENT. DO TRY TO REMEMBER YOU WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO WALK EITHER. WE DO SHARE THE SAME BODY. Oh, I’m quivering in my boots. AT LEAST, YOU HAVE BOOTS. CAN YOU WALK IN THEM?)
* * * * * * *
My world was a flutter. Everyone wanted to know what was wrong with me, and everyone had ideas about what it must be.
“Is it your back?”
“Have you tried acupuncture?”
“What did the doctor say?”
“Have you been to the chiropractor?”
“You look so dignified with a cane.”
I did go to the chiropractor who was quite certain what was wrong. But, it didn’t help.
I did go to my GP who didn’t have a clue but would happy to send me to an orthopedist in a couple weeks. Obviously, rollerblading was out. There was also competition amongst Sasifraz and I.
“But, you see Rahne, I can walk. I can run. I can hop. It is only an affliction tied to that idiot friend of yours.”
“Sasifraz, will you please treat the body gently?” Rahne implored knowing that I would pay for his over exertion.
“Why should I? It’s not my problem. Your friend is psychosomatic. It’s in her head. I can prove it.” He would hop up and down some more. “See, there is nothing wrong with this body.”
Rahne, fearing nerve damage to a spinal injury or just more pain for me in general, advised Sasifraz she would not talk to him if he did not stay in one place. So, he would…for a few minutes. Then, he’d be off again.
This entire situation puzzled both me and Rahne. We both knew the problem could easily be psychosomatic. We also knew that Sasifraz had an ability to ignore pain that was frightening. We decided to take the safest course of action and limit over exertion lacking any better information.
* * * * * * *
The weeks moved into months. Leslie moved in with another single mom whom she managed to make hate her in only a few short weeks. Then, she moved to her office in the Camp Fire Lodge until late that fall. Rose’s house came up for sale. Rose moved. Leslie bought her house. Finally, for me, Adrian was stationed in one place a mile from my house without any reason to move again for a long time.
It was vintage Leslie. She managed to move into someplace familiar and remarkably attached to Ronnie’s and my life. Rose’s house. What could be better? Proof positive, I thought, that Leslie would always take the path of least resistance and was dependent on me and Rahne without consciously knowing it. So much the better. All I cared about was taking the best possible care of Adrian which meant, I was beginning to understand, also taking the best possible care of myself.