Here We Go Again

Portrait - Here We Go Again!

The song has totally got me into the 1990s groove. This was one of my "high school years" tunes.

On another note, I was in the hospital again getting scanned. Went a lot smoother this time. I had washed my hair and scalp three times over the weekend (including this morning). My dredlocks still damp, I jumped onto the subway to the hospital. (My driver's license is still technically suspended but will be reactivated within a few days. I don't have to pay the reactivation fee.)

When I came in at 8am, I was directed to the waiting room for nuclear medicine. There was an elderly blue-eyed woman there and I listened to her speak. Her accent was unmistakable.

"Are you Jamaican?" I had to ask.

"Yes," she said.

I knew it. "I keep meeting Jamaicans in this hospital. And that's a good thing," I said.

It's true. When I had my surgery, my first roommate was an elderly Jamaican. Then when she was moved from my room (she was making a lot of noise since she was in pain, poor thing), another elderly Jamaican woman shared my room. Plus, my surgeon was Jamaican. And my medical doctor is half. Interesting, eh? I didn't plan it this way. Maybe my ancestors are connecting with me.

I used to think the hospital with the most Jamaicans was my "family hospital" in the U.S. in which many of my relatives did their internships and practicums and some still work today. (Most of my relatives work in the health industry in such professions as osteopathic medicine, psychiatry, maxillofacial surgery, pharmacy, physician's assistant, cytotechnology, nursing, biomedical engineering, nursing aide, etc. HEALING PROFESSIONS ARE IN THE BLOOD.)