So on July 17th I decided to see the my family doctor. Earlier that week I noticed my right ankle was swollen and was worried it was the start of heart failure (my mom eventually passed away from this condition). The doctor assured me it wasn't, that it was more likely a bite or something. He said it would start more from my shin. He examined my back with his stethoscope, maybe checking my lungs? I was happy to accept that I was ok except a few weeks later the ankle swelled up again. I have some annual bloodwork to complete as part of a physical where it will probably be a follow up phone call after. It could even be the Amlopidine blood pressure meds side effect. I told him I was pleased with my blood pressure readings since I started on the 2nd medicine along with the first sometime back in 2019.
I asked how he was doing as I hadn't been in since Dec 2019 due to Covid. He said 'you know I am not Terry, right?' I should mention he was wearing a mask and the twin doctors run a practice together. 'Terry died last September'. I was shocked and pressed for the cause of death. It was cancer. Terry was my doctor for 35 years. I know he had a son who is about my daughter's age, and I am guessing he wasn't yet 60, so sad. I asked his brother if he was taking over Terry's patients and he said 'as best he could'.
Husband M thought they should have informed Terry's patients that he had died. Anyway, I am ok with continuing with his brother as my family doctor.
These posts serve as a record on my blog, I will often search it for medical incidents, recipes and past art rather than rely on memory. Do you ever find yourself doing the same?
