Lifelong...?

I've been going to see Dr. Schweitzer at Lifelong Medical for maybe seven years now. Whenever I see her, she has a wry smile for me. And she seems to love the challenge of solving the latest puzzle of whatever ailment I have at that visit. In fact, I know she takes delight in solving the mystery. Make that mysteries, as my ailments are coming faster, a seeming tidal wave of health issues within the past few years.

Still, it's been hard to get in to see her. She never came to our weight loss classes. Dr. Towner did. Dr. Miller, even Dr. Chinn. And when I'd call, even when it wasn't urgent, I'd be pushed back a few weeks because she only came in twice a week. I began wondering if I shouldn't switch doctors, just because of the availability issue.

But there was one thing in her favor: She had saved my life.

Her sleuth skills were challenged one summer, when she kept getting test results back on me that showed I was low in iron and losing blood. She set me up for several more tests, including a colonoscopy. I was 51 and had never had one.

The gastroenterologist called me on a Friday night, telling me that they got the test results back from the rather large tumor that had attached itself to the colon wall. It was cancer. I had surgery within a week to remove it.

I must admit that I still wonder how, in all of those years the polyp has been growing into a rather sizeable Stage 2 growth, nobody caught it until then. I've had blood tests, all kinds of tests, in the last 10 years, which is probably how long the thing was growing. If it had kept on growing, without that colonoscopy, I wouldn't be typing these words, that's for sure.

So, that's it. I feel guilty that I wanted to leave. That, plus the fact that her bedside manner is terrific, she cuts right through the b.s. that I often throw out, and gets me to go back to diet and exercise, over and over again.

I was just there again yesterday, checking in about my thumb ("trigger finger," they call it) and also this horrible cold. She diagnosed the cold as bronchitis, gave me samples of antibiotics so that I didn't have to go to the pharmacy, and added an inhaler. Also, because of a missed step (I don't know what else to call it) in May, she set me up for three more tests, including the dreaded treadmill. Oooh, I'm not looking forward to that.

On the way out, I set up my fasting blood draw, and the receptionist asked me, "Did she tell you?" I said yes, not knowing what she was talking about. And then I paid attention and said, "What?" "She's leaving. Her last day is October 2nd. Well, actually, she's going back to one day a week -- Saturdays -- but not everyone will be able to get in then," she said with a pitying frown.

She's leaving. She didn't tell me. Scaling back more than leaving, sounds like. The receptionist added one more thing before giving me my appointment slip: "She's not good at saying goodbyes."

Neither am I.