ONE OF THOSE GOOD ONES
There are those weeks that just go by but occasionally I find one that helps me feel that maybe there really is a reason for my existence. Don't get me wrong, it's not all that frequent.
This past Sunday after church I was asked by a friend if I could help them out and give a shot to a young boy for them. He was 17 years old but when you're 60 he was still young. It seems that he needed some penicillin Benzathine Penicillin as a prophylaxis for a mitral valve regurgitation that he has been under a doctor's care for for a couple years. I said that I would do it but I wanted to take the time to listen to his murmur before giving him the shot. I am rather personally involved with mitral valves since I had a rather massive prolapse in my 40's and would have long gone by now (or at least displaced) had it not been for a number of very loving and proactive friends of mine who happened to be in the medical field.
When I listened to Robert's chest I heard nothing but a normal chest with no murmurs. Well, since I was there to give a shot and not to play doctor I went ahead and gave it which was no fun. This type of penicillin is almost a glue-like substance especially when it is given in 5cc doses. Needless to say this young man was not without complaints about his treatment. I didn't blame him.
Just to satisfy my personal questions I asked Robert's mother if I could get a copy of his medical records to look at and possibly have someone else to check through. By last Wednesday she got them to me and since they were in French and also in detailed medical terms they were basically useless to me but when I stopped at Dr. Theard's office on Friday he was kind enough to look at them for me. He wasn't surprised that I couldn't hear a murmur since he discovered that Robert's heart was still of a normal size and this mitral regurgitation was extreme minor at the present. Not only will Robert not have to have the shots every other week but he would not need the expensive echo cardiogram every 6 months but would have to be checked out when he had time in "five years or so."
I wish you could have seen the shear relief and tears of joy when I told Robert's mother that Robert wouldn't have to have those shots and that he should have a relatively normal life. It was giving her a new son back.
Sometimes we have these days! I'll take them.
And so it goes. John