PCP

Sounds like an illegal drug. But its shorthand for Primary Care Provider, and I finally got to see mine. It was late in the day - 4:30 was the supposed time, but well after 5:30, I found myself standing in an examining room on the fifth floor listening for footsteps.

In the room next to mine, a newborn cried loudly and angrily, then subsided into a happy gurgle of nursing. Minutes later a toddler in the room on the other side began a non-stop chatter about blue shoes and happy feet. He repeated his words ad infinitum until all adults ceased from responding even condescendingly.

The nurse had long since finished poking and measuring me, the reams of paperwork sat silently on the table. I wandered to the window and raised the blinds. Before me, a panorama of green trees, 6 lanes of traffic, and the rooftops of mall buildings. Red tail lights streamed heavily toward the west, hindered by bull dozers and steamrollers wending their summer chores across the intersections.

Snatches of conversations wafted up and down the hallway outside the door. I tried to breathe deeply and relax. My blood pressure was high. I suppose it is the not knowing, the understanding that this is one step on an unknown path. Not that I don't trust God to see me through. I am not sure I am quite ready, not quite in the right position, haven't quite gotten all the pieces in place to be able to minimize the impact if it comes.

The doctor finally swept into the room. She remembered me from Drew's appointment. I didn't waste words on chatter. Look, here's the deal. She listened. She asked good questions. She assured me she would do the referral that day, agreed that I should not waste any more time. While she did not know the specific doctor recommended by my Yale oncologist, she told me the reputation of the clinic was excellent and that I would be well cared for.

She signed me up for baseline tests, scheduled a followup appointment, recommended that I do a complete annual in January, and told me not to worry about the blood pressure until life settles down and I have seen the specialist. She was going to be good. Supportive. Knowledgeable. I felt confident that she was a good choice.

As we were leaving the room, she laid her hand on my shoulder, and said, "Its OK. We're going to take care of this." Um. We shall see. We shall see.