Friday already? WTF?
Hurray for Fridays! I’m in such desperate need for a weekend. It’s been one of those weeks where I can hardly drag myself out of bed, and then it’s go go go until bedtime. Yiish. It’s a bad sign when I have 2 cups of coffee at home and then grab another one on my way to the office. And then another one at lunch. Mommy’s medicine, I like to call it.
Anyway, it’s practically the weekend now, and the last thing I need to be obsessing over is my little addiction or my insane week at work. A lot of stuff has been going on.
- Just in case you didn’t already know waaaay too much info about my life, there’s an interview of me in the October issue of the Nontheist Nexus Zine. (Shout out to Steve Wells. Your site is the most entertaining thing on the web, sir.)
- How about that McPain-Failin’ campaign, huh? I can’t remember where I read this, and I’m paraphrasing: if you have to remind people that Obama’s black, things are not going well for you.
- I’m pretty psyched to see what Tina Fey dishes out tomorrow.
- This Salon.com article was a pretty interesting read. Call me ig’nant, but I thought secessionists went the way of the dodo bird a long time ago. (Neo-confederates? Adam and Steve? Seriously?)
- Speaking of elections, I just found out that my parents are voting for Nader this year. Nader! My dad said, “Obama’s a little too conservative for me, but I’d rather have him win than McStupid.” I could have died. The good news is that they live in a solidly Obama state, and their vote won’t make a difference anyway. …wait, is that good news? Either way, my parents are getting kind of awesome now that their babies have grown up and moved away.
Want to read about my doctor’s appointment? Sure you do!
I’m in love with my doctor.
OK, maybe love is too strong a word. Dr. X is one of the top specialists in the country, and I can totally see why there’s a 4 month wait to get an appointment with the guy. He’s that good. My thyroid works only thanks to this guy. I went in to see him today because I haven’t been feeling too great.
When I go see Dr. X, he doesn’t take me into some cold, sterile room with a steel table. We sit in his office — in cozy chairs — and we talk for a while before the exam. He’s got all his degrees and awards and thank you letters from patients spread out through the room. And little Buddha statues on his desk. It’s got quite a homey feel to it.
Dr. X ran through his list of questions about various symptoms. There was a very long pause before he asked me the final question. He dropped his head, peered at me above his reading glasses and asked, “Did you fast during ramadan?” I said, “Nope,” and he quickly replied with, “Now I feel foolish for assuming your name is Muslim.” This guy lived and worked in South Asia and the Middle East for a number of years. He would know a Muslim name if he saw one.
“Oh, you shouldn’t. My parents are Muslim, but I’m not.”
He smiled at this and asked, “I assume you’re not Jewish either? I know some Jews fast tomorrow.”
“No, I’m not any religion. I’m an atheist.”
The smile didn’t leave his face. “And your husband? Is he the fasting sort?” I swear I detected a twinkle in his eye.
I shook my head. “Atheist.”
He went into a story about how he was working in a certain Middle Eastern country a few years ago. He had to go in and beg the local imams to announce that diabetics are not allowed to fast. He asked them to lie, because his diabetic patients were fasting themselves to the point of dying. And they wouldn’t listen to him.
“If you ask me,” he said, “they should abolish the whole lot of them. Religions, I mean.”
“Me too, doc. Me too.” And we sat there laughing at the absurdity of it all.
Here is this brilliant guy. He’s nice as can be. Judging by all the thank you plaques and cards and pictures hanging on the walls, he’s helped thousands of people. People like me, who went to him because no other doctor could figure out what was wrong. People suffering from diabetes or thyroid cancer or autoimmune disease. And most of those people would never suspect that he’s a godless heathen. Some of them might not think so highly of him if they found out. And he doesn’t give a damn. He helps them anyway. Dr. X is someone I’ve respected ever since I met him — and then I found out he’s an atheist, and it makes me respect the guy even more.
We finished up the exam and he walked me to the exit. “A pleasure, as always,” he said. “It was great talking to you.” And you know what? It was great.