We were able to skip the visit to the neurologist in 2005, but 19 months was a long time to go without a CAT-scan. We gathered the old X-rays into an envelope. The doctors need them to compare to the current readings. We loaded the cooler with bottles of water and piled into the van.
The morning rush hour had abated. Traffic on the Bay Bridge and Highway 80 was light into Sacramento. We arrived in less than two hours and parked the car at the hospital.
The radiologist’s session lasted fifteen minutes, and while we waited for the prints, I ordered a couple of pizzas at the nearby Round Table. Pizzas and soda, not the healthiest fare, but when you’re out of town the calories don’t count.
Sam examined the X-rays and found nothing unusual. He asked the youngster to perform some simple exercises while his parents sympathetically mimicked the youngster’s raising of legs, pursing of lips, and curling of biceps. Sam pretended not to notice. He’s a nice person as well as a brain surgeon, who with rocket scientists are reputedly the smartest guys in the room. Next year we should do an MRI, he advised, in order to minimize long-term exposure to radiation.
I tipped the valet $5, a bargain for four hours of parking. It was 107 degrees in the Valley, and the steering wheel was hot to the touch. I turned on the air conditioning full blast. The slight drag on the motor was worth the increase in climatic comfort. Besides, gas in Central California was ten cents a gallon cheaper than on the Peninsula –under $3 a gallon---so we could afford to splurge.
We stopped at the Vacaville outlet stores. I bought a winter coat, optimistic that global temperatures had not risen to the point where coats were unnecessary. I bought more books, despite the unfinished volumes cluttering my nightstand, the triumph of ambition over experience.
We headed home with a full tank of gas, bags filled with shopping bargains, and a clean bill of health. Another good day in a year that has been kind to us. © 2006 Stephen Yuen
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