I'm due for my third session of chelation today. The last one was draining. Jackie thinks it's a bad idea. She thinks all this medical stuff is "bullshit". She thinks I should stop taking vitamins, eat hamburgers, drink wine, eat a lot of cake and chocolate and play musical comedy records.
"Charlie - you need to sing."
"Jackie I can't sing."
"You sing in church."
"No Jackie. I don't. Not anymore."
"I think you should sing."
"Okay, I'll sing."
"And that building! Do you have to go that building? Only one elevator works in that building... and all that security! I don't want to be stuck in a building they're trying to protect from terrorists! That embassy... and those men in ties with the walkie talkies! And ...it smells funny in there - there was no air. I don't think you should go back to that building Charlie. That building is no good for anyone."
"You don't have to go Jackie. I'll go by myself. I need to talk to the doctor. I have to go over my test results."
"How 'bout - I'll help you get in the cab. Okay? Oh. I'm a bad person. I should go. But Charlie I'm telling you that place is no good!"
__________________
When I meet Jackie in my lobby an hour later, she greets me at the elevator with her coat on.
"I'll go."
"You don't have to go Jackie."
"No, I'll go. It's ridiculous. I'm a baby. An infant! I don't know what's WRONG with me!!"
____________________
Our cab driver is quiet and gracious and fat and wears a beard and a large white turban.
His cab is shiny new.
We drive and I take pictures with my father's camera.
Jackie promises me that she'll be good. She won't say a word to the doctor. "Like Barbra Streisand in Funny Girl. You know?
Nicky Arnstein... when he's playing poker? I'll be Barbra Streisand and you'll be Nicky Arnstien playing poker."
________________________
Patients Medical is packed. We only wait a few minute minutes.
We pick up magazines from nearby tables.
Jackie informs me the National Enquirer has recently won the Noble Peace Prize.
"Jackie" I say "I am quite sure the National Enquirer did NOT win the Nobel Peace Prize."
"Yes, yes they did. For the coverage on Tiger Woods and John Edwards."
"Not the Nobel!"
"Well some sort of prize."
Jackie always makes me feel so straight and erudite.
__________________________
They're ready for me.
The same male nurse (as always) escorts me to a small room to have my vitals checked.
This nurse is Hispanic and short with a nice grin. He seems a little sad to see me with the walker and the helmet. Usually he's kind of flirty and chatty but today he casts his eyes down. His energy dimmed.
I am weighed. Not bad. 136. I've dropped 20 pounds in two years but I've been hovering in the late 130's these past few months. My blood pressure is checked. A little high, but also not bad.
Jackie is already in protest mode.
"I don't think your blood pressure is too high. Everyone is different!"
The male Hispanic nurse says, "Your friend is partly right."
____________________
Dr. Bombay is ready for me.
Before we go in I say to Jackie, "Remember ... NICKY ARNSTEIN."
As we stumble into Bombay's office (a funny and mismatched pair) I catch a quick close up of Dr. Bombay looking sad as she sees my walker.
"How are you? Is this a relative?"
"I'm a neighbor, Jackie"
"Nice to meet you Jackie."
Dr. Bombay is rounder today (later she tells us she's pregnant with her third child) and tall and ethnic and scattered and pretty and definitely has ADD.
What is it about people in the medical world and ADD? They can not hold onto a cohesive conversation.
"So how are you? I must say, you seemed to have fallen back since the last time we met."
"Well, my father died, my mother just had a stroke and I recently fell and knocked out a tooth."
"It's been a rough month" Jackie concedes.
Dr. Bombay (a holistic doctor) begins the kind of banal speech you might expect from a local minister. She offers her philosophy on death and mourning the dead. I let go and enjoy and listen. You never know when you might hear something new, something that might really work for you.
"I for one don't believe that we ever die. It is really the people left behind who suffer, not the one who has died. It is important to mourn. But not for too long. It would be odd and wrong to not to mourn or suffer for a period of time. But it is important to move on. It is important to heal.
I can tell. I understand that you are very close to your parents and this is hard for you."
I nod. I am close to my parents. But her guesswork seems invasive. I've never discussed my parents with her. I want to sort of be the kind of person who goes with the program so I remind myself that Dr. Bombay is working holistically. (On the ride home, Jackie said she felt like she was listening to a gypsy - a gypsy looking into her little crystal ball!)
We move on to my tests.
And the thing is about Dr. Bombay is, she remembers things wrong.
We talk about chelation. I tell her that I felt drained afterwards.
"See, I told you! I told you not to do this."
"No, Dr. Bombay. Ever since I've come in here you've been suggesting chelation. I asked you last week and you gave the order to the nurse."
"Yes. But you were stronger when I was recommending it to you. You are in a weakened state. Once you are stronger we should continue the chelaltion. And we'll do a less invasive chelation."
(But what about last week? We talked last week. I let it go. I get lost her in her endless words - her thick delicate accent that I can't always make out).
I tell her I'm worried about the lead levels on my recent tests. And that the Ayurvedic Oil she recommended and I've used - I googled these Ayurvedic treatments - and there have been reports of high levels of mercury and lead.
"Not from the brand I recommended"
"I ordered a different brand off the web."
"You see? I told you not to order over the web."
No she didn't. I am quite sure she didn't. But I don't pursue this. It is all so scattered.
In any case, as it turns out, the brand I bought is a brand she recommends anyway. And I had emailed the company and they were resolute about their purity and testing.
We talk about other test results. Turns out I have a good gut. I have a particularly good gut she tells me. I am lucky. And no food allergies.
(And I think to myself - I am so blessed with good health - so many good things were given to me- I am extremely healthy in so many ways - except for having this neurological disease.
Back to the tests. How could I have such high levels of lead?
She tells me that this test might be lopsided. That we should do a simple blood test. I've already done a simple blood test. Now she wants another? It's like she can't makes sense of the papers and reports that clutter her desk. And I'm too weak and scattered to make sense of them myself. So she turns her confusion into a beautific smile and suggests more tests and I nod wanly and say, "okay, lets get another test."
Jackie (as promised) has kept her mouth shut but can't resist making sour expressions. Dr. Bombay, I notice, checks in with Jackie (ever so often) and I don't have to look at Jackie - I only have to look to Dr. Bombay - to know that Jackie isn't like what she is hearing. Dr. Bombay looks uneasy whenever she glances over at Jackie, like she's resisting the need to mop her brow.
At one point, Jackie boldly grabs Dr. Bombay's business card from her desk, stuffs it in her purse and then looks vacantly at the nearby wall.
I talk and listen - my ALS energy unwilling to (take on) the angst of Jackie's impudence.
Dr. Bombay and I come up with a plan for IV'S. No more chelation. And then a possible home chelation when I get stronger. (I love this idea that we merely need to wait until I get stronger, like I don't have ALS but some tiresome flu. I think that's why I like seeing Dr. Bombay).
Before we go Jackie says, "Doctor, can I ask you a couple of things."
"Why sure Jackie."
"Is it possible to take too many vitamins, to poison yourself with too many vitamins?''
"Well, yes it is." And Dr. Bombay goes into a explanation about the difference between water and fat soluble vitamins."
"And let me ask you this. What do you eat to build muscle?
"protein".
(Jackie wants me to drop the vegetables and eat meat and cake).
On the way home we get into a fight, or as much of a fight as I can conjure.
The one problem I habitually have is an acidic system.
"I tell you stop Charlie! Stop with all that citrus. No wonder your acidic!"
"No, Jackie, ironically lemon is very alkaline. I know it tastes acidic but it works the opposite way in the body. It's meat and alcohol and refined food -white flour! that causes acidity, not citrus."
"Well that's the first I ever heard that! Then how come my mouth gets all sour and acidy when I taste lemon. Huh?"
"I don't know. I don't know."
And I don't know. I can't figure any of this stuff out. All I do is spew out little factoids that I don't really understand. It's like trying to learn a secret code in which (later) all will be revealed.
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