PCP

To my new primary care physician,

Thank you for creating such a welcoming environment in your office.

Never before have I been to a doctor’s office where it felt just like I was at a friend’s apartment or that crazy history professor’s office with piles of paper on every surface, overflowing file cabinets, and a desktop computer that looks like it’s from 1997 and hasn’t been turned on since 2003. I can’t stand all of those other doctors’ offices that are so overly-neat and sterile-feeling. I barely even see any medical equipment at yours. And I appreciate that, because--let’s be honest--test tubes, bandages, and needles do not make me feel comfortable. And when you’re sick, don’t you just want to feel comfortable?!

Speaking of uncomfortable, I absolutely hate lying on a big sheet of butchers paper to get my breasts examined. It makes me feel like such a piece of meat. Gross. But with you, there was none of that! No butchers paper on the examining table, no plastic gloves; you didn’t even wash your potato-chip crumb covered hands. You totally know what’s important and what not to fret over! I love it!

And it was just too cute how your secretary called me “Ms. New Patient” during the two hours while I was waiting for my appointment. And how she threatened to kick my non-injured knee to make the injured one feel better?! Hilarious!! It’s that type of camaraderie that makes the time fly by. Well, that and being able to listen in on all of your appointments because of the open doors, and hearing diagnoses and prescriptions being yelled out. Oh and you really gave it to that Dr. Nelson on the phone!!!! What a lazy bastard!! Finally, a doctor’s office where I feel like we’re all in it together--secretary, doctor, and 7 other patients in one hallway-shaped office.

I also think it’s totally awesome how you relate to your patients by being hip and using curse words when we talk. Like when you recommended that dermatologist to me because he would “just slice it right off” because “that’s the kind of doctor he is;” because “even though he said it was benign, it was fucking freaking you out, so he just did it.” I feel like you really get me! I also love a doctor who will just do what I say and is a little scalpel happy. I’m paying for it, so I should get to call the shots, right?!

And I love what you’ve done to your office. I’ve never seen such efficient use of space. I mean, why not file patients’ folders in the same room with the the toilet, refrigerator, and sink? And so what if said file cabinets have no doors, and the toilet water may happen to spray upward to an alarming height? Kudos to you for saying f you to convention!

I think it’s totally rad how old school you are with all of your paper files in manila folders with people’s full names written on them in permanent black marker on the sides. You know, our over-protective, HIPAA-ridden, paranoid society is what’s ruining patient-doctor relationships. Remember when we could just trust one another? When we were all like family?

Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks, doc, for restoring my faith in our healthcare system. Finally, I feel like there’s someone out there who gets it.

Sincerely,

Samantha Richardson (aka Ms. New Patient)

My future self

Dear Future self,

I see you on the subway sometimes. You’re around 55, you have long, frizzy hair, clipped up in some unique style. You’re often wearing what I imagine is probably a very comfortable skirt and your cell phone is several years older than everyone else’s in the car. But it still works, and that’s what matters, eh?

You carry multiple tote bags, emblazoned with non-profit organizations, political statements, conferences, and banks that were having free give-aways. Your jewelry implies that you’ve travelled. And I can tell by the orange cat hair on your black coat that you have a cat at home. My guess is you have more than one. But only because the first little guy was lonely and needed a buddy! And then the second one turned out to be pretty anti-social, so you know how it goes. Kids!

Oh no no, not real children. Of course not. Cats are responsibility enough, thank you very much. Scan down to your left hand ring finger and yes, it is naked. (Of course I noted that first, but I thought it might be uncouth to mention it earlier.) But really now, marriage isn’t everything. How could a partnership with someone else possibly define who you are? And regardless, look at that bangle! I bet it’s from India... or possibly Bangladesh? Bangalore? Bhutan? One of those, most likely. Note to Current self: I really do need to learn more about South Asia.

What is that you’re saying, Future self? Something about the new subway maps and the MTA getting rid of the W train? I know, I can’t believe it either! Nor can everyone else in the car, who I’ll assume you’re addressing, because it’s unclear with whom, more specifically, you’re being such a chatty cathy. And that sweet-looking hispanic man in front of you certainly seems more engrossed in his ipod than in engaging in witty banter with you, Future self. That’s all right though; we all have our quiet, less social days. He’s probably been working all morning and is tired out, not like you who haven't spoken to another human being since last night at 6pm. But no worries, hopefully he’s headed home now to rest up and relax.

Wow, Future self, if you could only find that face powder in your bag. You really need to stop piling everything in there. Maybe this weekend, you’ll finally clean it out so you can find what you need and your tote bag feels less like a black hole and more like a purse! That reminds you: need to follow up on that email about the community garden composting. As much as it would be nice to include everyone in the neighborhood, there’s no way our little garden has room for all of that organic waste! It just won’t fit.

Anyway, here’s your/my stop, Future self! I hope you make it to your meeting on time!!

All the best,
Current self

The error of our ways

To my beloved $80,000 now funding my graduate school alma mater,

I am sorry I gave you away so soon, $80,000. I think of all that we could have done together. There are so many experiences we could have had, but our time was cut short. It feels like our relationship together ended before it even had a chance to begin.

If things had only been different, we could have taken several years to travel the world together, staying in luxury hotels or small $4 per night huts by the river, depending on our mood. We could have rode a boat down the Mekong River, shopped in the Bangkok night markets, made love to an adorable Thai folk guitar player with shaggy dark hair. We could have gone to the Festival in the Desert in Morocco and made music with our new Tuareg friends. We could have chipped away at one of the remaining glaciers in the Arctic on a luxury yet environmentally-responsible cruise.

We could have been so good together, but you left me too soon, $80,000. Why didn’t you love me more? Why didn’t you show me the error of my ways? And why didn’t I just appreciate you more to begin with? I was so impulsive to just throw away what we could have had together. To hastily blow you on 4 silly, hurried semesters. Think of all the New York pizza we could have had. We could have traveled to Germany for bratwurst, to Poland for pierogies, to Mexico for tamales, to Ethiopia for Ethiopian food. The world was our oyster, $80,000, and instead we wasted our time together in Medford, Massachusetts, the land of angsty Red Sox fans.

What was I thinking, $80,000?! I don’t know, I just don’t know. I try to replay the steps in my head. Where did I go wrong? Why couldn’t we have stayed together? I was so rash in throwing you out the window. “Throw caution to the wind,” they say?! Why oh why?! We could have had years together but instead I chose to waste what we had on an intense, short-lived, late-nights-filled, binge of academic excess.

Sometimes it feels like the universe is playing a cruel, cruel joke on us, $80,000. I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand what happened between us or why. All I know is that I’ll always miss you and wish things were different. But I’ll try to move on without you. And without what could have been.

Always yours,
Leah

Un-mailed letter from a Russian Illegal

July 1, 2010

The following letter was found in the home of one of the arrested couples of Illegals on the day of their arrest. The envelope was addressed to Moscow Center, Moscow, Russia, had the appropriate amount of postage, and was waiting to be mailed.

Dear Moscow Center,

I am writing to express my sincere gratitude for employment with you over the past 25 years as an international secret agent, as well as to inform you of my resignation, valid four weeks from today, on July 21, 2010.

I owe you my deepest thanks for the opportunities with which you provided me, including language skills and the use of such secret agent tools as invisible ink, telegraphs, morse code, and smoke signals. I truly appreciate the years that I was able to spend, working remotely for the good of my homeland.

I will always maintain my allegiance to you, however, I have finally been approved for citizenship in the United States, and accepting it just seems like the right thing for me at this time. Working a regular day job and as a secret Russian spy has put a great deal of stress on my family life, and I feel I owe it to my wife and children to spend more time with them.

Furthermore, the fruits are fresh here, the grass is green, winter is only several months a year, and public education is slightly less censored. I have even come to appreciate the warmth of these Americans. After years of undercover work, Olga and I have created a real community for ourselves here. We bought a house and have almost finished paying off our mortgage. The kids have playdates twice a week with our neighbors, the DiLarios, and we’ve even started a book club. Last month, we read Me Talk Pretty One Day, and this month is The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo! Furthermore, little Yevgeny/Theodore has grown quite skilled at swimming, and we couldn’t bear to tear him away from the Aquaducks for our next scheduled move in September.

Again, I want to extend my deepest thanks to Moscow the for the extraordinary opportunity. I know that Russia will continue to be a rising and powerful country, with the most advanced and shrewd international intelligence network in the world.

I am excited to see how you will grow and succeed in the future, and I look forward to our paths crossing again.

Sincerely,

Boris Polshevsky/Robert Peterson/Roberto Rodriguez