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There’s a huge cicada on our porch. Hey, I thought I heard them outside, I just didn’t think they came this far north. Evidently they do on rare occasions. Of course, I sort of am repelled by it, feel bad for it, and want to feed it to the turtles.

There you have it. Busted.

More thought on my visit Wednesday and I know that it really was probably about as good going as it could be. We pretty definitively ruled out most other causes, and without any more nasty testing. I live in fear of a lumbar puncture. I mean, not the actual procedure, the day or two thereafter when life is just a big headache (literally) and ambient high suck levels suck higher. If this doctor had any real suspicion it were infectious or viral at all, he’d have done it. And he’d know if there were any chance at all.

Naturally, I haven’t heard from anyone yet. I know my local neuro guy is on vacation till Monday, and I think that he and the MGH doctor will probably talk either to Dana Farber’s people as a team or Dana Farber will be directed toward my GP and local neuro with the knowledge differentials were eliminated elsewhere. On the one hand, it feels like no body feels like this is urgent but you know, me and you and stuff, and on the other hand… doctors don’t outwardly panic and rush things unless you’re bleeding out or spontaneously combusting. I know that they are going as fast as possible, and I appreciate more that the neuro at MGH said he was taking a moment to think about who should see me and how it should be handled because at this point, extraneous visits aren’t doing more than confusing the issue and wasting everyone’s time. The trick is getting to a checkmate in treating and diagnosing in as few moves as possible. Chess timer on.

I know I was taken seriously, and man, it was weird. There were a lot of sick people there. I mean, maybe not at first glance, but then you’d really see the person in the waiting room and think, “Crap, that sucks.” Of course, it sucked to go into the ladies room with its harsh lighting and three quarter length mirror and see myself and think, “Crap… that sucks….”

It blows that it takes that to get er done, but then, there was really no way to know this was the direction we were heading earlier. I can still be mad with the dismissive dorks though.

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