I am going to the doctor and the dentist this week. God help us all.
I don't like going. I am fine. I will be fine. I will go. I will not back out.
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I went. I am fine. I showed up. I was pleasant.
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Dr. Ridley and Dr. Burns are my doctors. I like them and trust them. Period. They are the horse whisperers for patients like me. Kind. Quiet. Competent.
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I would use salves made from the root of the sycamore tree and burn the eye of a newt in the light of the full moon if I had my way about medical care. I would go to the ocean and breathe the air and cleanse with the salt water. I would drink the dew on the magnolia tree and dance with the cats under the stars.
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You could offer me the winnings of the Powerball and I couldn't tell you the names of the medicine I take daily. I trust Chip Ridley. He says, "Do it." I do it because he keeps me well.
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"Keep up the good work," says my dentist, Dr. Burns. I brush and floss. I like my teeth.
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I am working on my weight. I don't want to be known as that fat lady with the bad knee. (I don't want to be known as the skinny lady with the bad knee either--FYI) I want to be able to walk the bridges of Venice and roam the museums of Florence . Walking is a good thing. For every pound I lose, I am taking 4 pounds of pressure off of my knees stated Dr. Lee, the orthopedist. I like him. He's kind, quiet, and competent. He has made my knee feel better.
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I did try rubbing my knee with WD-40.
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