Yesterday, I took my husband to see the midwife.

No – he’s not pregnant! But he did have a big cyst behind his ear, and she removed it for him. She’s so cool! If he’d gone to a ‘real’ doctor, it would have cost ~$300, wasted a lot of time, and the removal procedure itself would have occurred in a stinky hospital or clinic.

As it was, we went to Kathy’s center, which is a very cozy, comfortable apartment, complete with a fully furnished living room for sitting and discussing things, an autoclave on the kitchen counter, and a bedroom exam room with a comfortable daybed strewn with pillows and walls hung with art.

Mr. Brett made himself comfy on the daybed, and Kathy, wearing a cheery sundress, gave him a shot of lydocaine and removed the cyst. She explained the cyst and the proceedure thoroughly, took her time, laughed with us a lot, told us a funny story about her kid getting arrested, and sent Brett home with a stack of bandages and a whole tube of triple antibiotic ointment – the kind they give you for tattoos in the high quality shops.

I wish all health care was like that! Real people, in a real setting that you can feel human in. Getting care from real people who talk to you like you’re a thinking human who knows your body, and not an ear-tagged cow.

The clincher is that she did it for only $75, and if needed would have charged only $35 for a biopsy! CAN YOU STAND IT?!

Tammy (Noah’s wife) was Kathy’s assistant, and said that it had been her first cyst.

This particular cyst was basically the mother of all zits; nothing serious at all. But it had just gotten really huge and was bugging me. Brett said it hadn’t bothered him at all.

Brett seemed entirely relaxed during the procedure, and cracked us all up with the tone he used to say, “Now THAT sounds weird!” (When the sac was removed I guess there was a very loud sucking sound.) I sat on the floor in the exam room while the women worked, rubber gloves on and everything.

It was just all so normal and (while I don’t really like the word due to its weird feminist connotations) empowering. ‘Real’ doctors behave as if the absolute least valuable part of any patient is their own intelligence and experience.

It’s really nice to go to see a laid back, earthy yet well-trained person to handle the little issues of the body.

I hate doctors. I like Kathy. (She’s also a registered nurse, so her closet is filled with needles, boxes marked “biohazard”, bandanges, syringes, and all the other sterile-looking implements of her trade.)

Brett’s ear is a little tender today but doing quite well. Since it’s such a weird place to try to bandage, he’s opted for slathering the area with triple antibiotic ointment to keep the jobsite dust out.

The Nunnery

I went to visit the Benedictive nuns in Atchison, KS last weekend with Tahmi and Anna. We had a great time and bonded a lot and I feel renewed.

My experience this time was unique, not at all like last time – I just giggled a lot and talked a lot and had FUN, which I really needed. I feel noticably better, in point of fact!

The routine there is very loose. You show up at chapel and at the cafeteria at specific times, but other than that you’re free to roam around. We had really nice rooms with A/C, a common room stocked with soda and snacks, and lots of fun tours with Sister Bridged, who is in her 70’s and probably one of the coolest women you could ever hope to meet.

She showed us one of the rooms in the old mansion on campus and said, “They call this the Honeymoon Suite.”

I cracked up and said, “Honeymoon suite? In a nunnery?!”

She smiled, raised an eyebrow and said, “Of course the SISTERS don’t use it! It’s for guests!” Then she twinkled at me.

She’s had a stroke and a broken hip, and both times when they told her that her recovery would be 80 or 90% she said, Why not 100%? and proceeded to do just that. She’s lived there for nearly 60 years. When I asked her if she was ever going to retire, she said, “God forbid. There’s always something to do.”

The chapel experiences were, as always, very deep and restful, even if I didn’t grok every nuance of Christian symbology (like anyone in 2004 really resonates with the freakin’ psalms: “Ah, we’re all in the desert, we’re all at war, yey.”). These sisters sing their psalms in call-and-response format, and sit in absolute silence for some several moments in between. It feels just like meditating with any other powerful group of people: deep, silent, expansive, and refreshing.

Amma

I bought two Amma books at Revelations yesterday, which I visited for a lunch seva meeting with Christina and Mark and Lalita and Betsy and Debbie.

Which reminds me, I need to fix some stuff on the website…