Goines On: Thanksgoings

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Thanks to Linnea Desktop Calendars
for their November from 2011

The day after his blood was drawn for his annual physical exam the next week, Goines felt upbeat and hopeful – and thankful. As usual on the day of the draw, Goines had fixed breakfast for himself and Mrs. Goines, but he refrained from having his, because he had been advised not to eat or even drink coffee until after his blood was drawn. The draw was scheduled for 10:50 a.m., by which time he would have been fasting for almost 17 hours. He poured his coffee into a thermos and put his cereal and diced fruits in plastic containers and stored them and two 6-oz. bottles of probiotic smoothies in the refrigerator until time to leave for Chapel Hill.
    Having to fast was bad enough, but it was worse than that. Goines was trying to untangle the knots he had twisted himself into thinking about the questions his doctor’s nurse would put to him. Her name was Electra, and he didn’t think he’d met her. He had mixed feelings about revealing that he sometimes felt he wouldn’t make it through a day, or that he sometimes felt depressed. He was unsure about such feelings. Were they objective? In theory, and in actual practice – when he was up to practicing it – he could feel the way he wanted…on some days. But lately such states lasted for only an hour or two, or half a day. Was he losing control? If Electra were to ask him this, what could he answer?
    But the day of the draw turned out joyously, mainly because of Electra. Their conversation surged so well he wrote a poem in keeping with the practitioner’s follow-up survey.

The day his blood was drawn he won the health Trifecta.
After early labs, reception let him break his fast
in a quiet, private room – something he didn’t expect to.
With labs done early, he did not rush his task.  

Then he stored his stuff and plugged in with Electra.
His talk with her had voltage, removing overcast.
She listened, clarified, helped him get connected.

On his walk that afternoon, the sun’s warm blast
broke through, the third good thing of his Perfecta!

    Goines was thankful that he passed the memory test with flying colors. The three words Electra had told him to remember for later were captain, garden, picture. Goines remembered them handily by turning the painting of a poppy on the wall behind Electra into a mnemonic device. He imagined a boat captain sailing in from the left, into the garden of poppies, of which the painting was the picture.
    Goines was thankful that he could answer “no” to Feeling any pain?, “yes” to Safe at home?, “good” to How’s your health?, “yes” to Physical exercise?, “yes” to Sleep well?, “yes” to Concentrate okay?, “yes” to Remember to take your prescribed meds on schedule?, thankful that his blood pressure was a healthy 130/68 with a pulse of 64, and thankful that he could confirm he had something to look forward to each day, things he could do for others to be of use.
    Electra had encouraged Goines often as they conversed on each topic. He seemed to get more exercise than she did. She too would not want to go on living if she were no longer of use to anyone. She had laughed at his joke that his good BP numbers were in spite of their being in a doctor’s office, and then replied with a joke of her own: “The color of our jackets was chosen to avoid white coat syndrome.”
    And when he started to stand up, she jocularly admonished him: “Not yet, young man. Mama hasn’t told you to get up yet. She has to check your pulse.” Goines laughed too, resettled himself in the chair, and placed the thermometer Electra handed him under his tongue. Waiting for the reading, images of his mother led to the most electric moment of the visit. After being told the reading he said, “We miss our mothers, don’t we?” and she said quietly, “Yes, we do.”

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