Saying Goodbye to My Surgeon

This might seem silly to most of you, but yesterday my surgeon and I said goodbye. We both didn't like it. Neither one of us was looking forward to it. Here's the deal. When I first met Dr. Ronny Ford from Huguley Hospital it was shortly before surgery on my right calf, which was being absolutely destroyed by four flesh-eating viruses—basically, I think, a staph cocktail that was out of control. He took care of that in July, 2013, with two operations. By luck, and with his help, and the help of the staff, my leg and life were saved.
    In January or Feb of 2014, Dr. Ford gave me a skin graft from flesh he took off my upper right thigh. That measured about 6" by 10 ". During most of those months, I was seeing him as I got better every week or two. After the skin graft I also saw him every week or two. He's nice and his assistant Anne is nice and I always enjoyed the visits. Evette at the front desk is also nice: Everybody gets 5-Star ratings from me.
   We started spacing the visits to once a month about six months after the graft, but one year later, in Feb of 2015, the leg reinfected and I've been seeing him every week since then, except for my time in Peru.
   But yesterday, we both had to admit, it's better. Nothing to be done. And you know what? That was sort of sad. I love my visits to Dr. Ford. I'll miss Annie's Irish elfin sense of humor as she tells me my blood pressure isn't so bad, but that I should take it easy on the wine. I'll miss the couple of minutes a week when Dr. Ford scraped the Sh.t out of my leg and I had to bite my tongue sometimes to keep from screaming.
   Crazy, right? I mean, just a habit, right?
   Yes, both of those. But it was also a connection with a few very special healers, who heal in a very immediate world of surgery. And they did it with style and substance and character and fun and that is a great combination. And that's why I was sad when we had to say goodbye yesterday. My leg doesn't need him anymore. But my spirit still does! Damnit!