Questions I Never Asked My Doctor

My personal physician of over 30 years has passed away. Suddenly. 

This is very strange, the mix of emotions are confusing to me. I knew this man for what seems like forever. He was there for my kidney stones, my colon cancer, various surgeries and procedures I've had over the years. He managed my medications, ordered my blood work, and applied his smart a$$ sense of humor liberally. 

And suddenly, he is gone and I feel like I'm grieving the man. I'm shocked, in disbelief that he is no

longer in his office kvetching about other doctors but always spending time and never rushing me through an appointment. He isn't there working past office closing, eating chocolate at his desk and giving instructions to his nurse. 

He actually isn't there anymore. It's real.

I'm angry because about a year ago I told him I needed him to give me the name of another doctor in case he retired, I did not want to be passed to one of his partners, I wanted someone he would recommend because - it was going to need to be someone he would approve of. He said he would think about it, but he wasn't going to retire for another 10 years. I never got that name.

This man played a big part in my life for the last 30+ years and I realized I never asked him "how are you doing, how are you feeling?" My visits were always about me, not him, although he did tell some funny stories about his son or his mom. But I never knew how HE was.

His name was Richard Cash. He was an internist and a beloved one at that. And as I searched for an obituary I realized I didn't know what his family called him, his wife - did she call him Dick? No, he wasn't a Dick - although he would beg to differ. :) Rich? Maybe. I do know his mother called him god (with a small g) because medically he was EVERYTHING. What did she call him, I wonder? Besides god, I mean.

There was  a string posted on social media about someone losing their primary care doctor, and it went on and on and on - once everyone realized the post was about Dr. Cash. People adored him, they trusted him, they were feeling at a loss just like I was. And someone said he was a twin! How come I didn't know that? Apparently his twin has passed as well.

He was my doctor but he was also a human being and I feel terrible that I did not ask him questions about HIM more than I did. It's a very selfish feeling. There is no obituary, except a couple fake ones. Even some guy with a thick Indian accent talking about him on a YouTube video, basically repeating what one of the fake obits said. What is THAT all about, anyway? Fake obituaries?? People are vultures.

So, no obituary, no pictures, he rarely allowed them to be taken - and never - for his profession. It's like he's been erased. Makes me sad. I will miss him greatly.

Rest in Peace Dr. Cash. You deserved more time.

Never Too Much Norm

Maybe the thing people didn't realize about Norm MacDonald was what a truly decent human being he was. Decent, a man of integrity and faith. I'm not sure whether he cared if you knew that or not, as long as you let him continue to tell the jokes he wanted to tell.

RIP Norm. Definitely our loss.

 

 

 

 

 

RIP Homer. . . or . . . Marge?

Not too long ago I wrote about being wary of gifts from ex-husbands like the one mine gave to my kids, a frog hatchery kit.  Of course that was in 1994 or '95, and those frogs stayed with me through thick and thin.  Until today.  Earlier in the day one of them managed to get out of the tank, something that has not happened in years.  I noticed one of the cats looking at something like .. "e-e-e-eew-w-ww!  What's that?" all creeped out and nervous.  Realizing it was a stranded water frog, I scooped him up with my hands and plopped him back into his tank.  He immediately started to swim around while dust and cat hair swirled around him.  He was fine.  

One of the frogs .. not sure which one exactly ...

Later, after a nice Saturday afternoon nap, I went into the kitchen to feed the cats and checked on the frogs to make sure they were both still in there.  They weren't.  Uh oh!  After crawling around on all fours I located Homer (or Marge) under the kitchen table on his back and a little stiff.  Being me .. I picked him up and promptly dropped him in the tank like touching the water would immediately revive him.  Um .. no.  So then I took him to the kitchen sink and ran water on him to get the dust and cat hair off of him and tried to feel if there was any life in the sticky, slimy little guy.  Tried to locate his heart in his chest - actually flashed back to when we dissected frogs in high school .. didn't help a bit.  Nothing.  Walked around with him a bit, showed him to my son, kind of waiting for the doggone thing to start flopping around in my hands!  If only his eyes would have been closed - I wouldn't have felt like I was burying him alive while I wrapped him in his burial cloth (paper towels) and tucked him into his coffin (empty microwave popcorn box) and laid him to rest (in the trash can in the garage). 

Do you think that Homer (or Marge) knew it was time .. and was trying to go somewhere to die?  I mean, elephants do that, right?  And neither of these frogs has tried to jump out of the tank in years. So that's what I'm going with.  Homer (or Marge) knew it was time and went somewhere to die. 

Rest in peace Homer.  Or Marge.