Life has blessed me with the same doctor most of life. She knows me from when my four front teeth fell out in two days, when I played sports year round, when growth spurts started, and ended, when I entered high school, when I graduated high school and went to college. So the first visit back after the college hiatus was more like a chat with an old friend.
It was still a check up though. Blood pressure. Good.Pulse. Normal. Allergies? Same. Then the moment came when she stuck the freezing cold stethoscope to my back. Deep breathe in. Out. Again. Then the chilling metal positioned over the heart. Deep breathe in. Out. Cold torture to the ribs. Breathe in. Out. Last one. Deep breathe. And out. Phew. Freedom from the article chill!
“Do you exercise?” says she as she hung the torture device over her neck. Routine question yes. But! This was not her usual placid tone. “Do you exercise?” asked the doctor.
“Yes,” says I. “Karate.”
“Ah,” says she, enlightenment on her face. I have never heard the following praise from her in all the years of soccer, dance, tennis, softball, or swimming. She nodded while warmly stating, “Sounds good.”
Wha-huh?
It took a moment to comprehend the full weight of those simple words, but I believe I visibly shone with the pride of her acknowledgment. I’ve been working especially hard on controlling breathe and heart rate for some time. So thank you, Friend, Medical Professional. It does sound good.