The following story is a mash-up of excursions into the medical establishment, but all based on a real incident on a real roller coaster.
A very short story. Enjoy.
Roller Coaster
Aaron Cohen 11-1-14
Clackety clackety clackety . . .
The roller coaster car grabs the chain and starts the long
climb to the apex of the twisting track that will yield two minutes of
terror-laced thrill on our tortured route back to the starting point. We are committed
now. No escape until the car brakes to a stop.
Clackety clackety clackety . . .
The echoes of that long-ago ride bounce off the insides of
my skull. I’m sitting on the table. The doctor has just left the examining room,
and invited me to get dressed. Everything has been explained. Tomorrow’s
procedure. The treatments over the next few months. The ancillary and follow-up
therapies. The side effects. The odds (or potential outcomes based on others’
experiences). The progress checkpoints and tests along the way.
Clackety clackety clackety . . .
This is no thrill ride, nor will it be over in two minutes,
but the path is set and the car is proceeding inexorably up the highly superior
US medical infrastructure.
Many years ago, when the children were quite small, we took
a short vacation trip to Colonial Williamsburg, Jamestown and Busch
Gardens. My wife does not like roller
coasters, and the children were too small, but they indulged my need to ride
the big coaster at Busch Gardens. It was beautiful. The first drop was a steep
dive right over the water of the lake. I waited in line for more than 20
minutes, and as luck would have it ended up in the front seat of the car. My
seatmate was a pretty young woman several years my junior who seemed to be
there with a group of friends.
Clackety clackety clackety
As we approached the release point high over the lake she
turned to me and said, “It really helps if you scream.”
She was right!
