Disbelief on NE 20th Ave: A Visit to the Chief Medical Officer

"Mumph. What tha? What's up, Jack? How come you're getting out of bed so early? You don't have to be at Dr. Rachel S. Graves, MD's office until 9." "I'm walking there--gotta get my carcass moving. I might lose another ounce on the way..."

I headed out. The day was fine, the sidewalk rose to meet my feet, I waddled south at a good clip, and before long, I was outside Sunshine Dairy. Sunshine Dairy has a rotating sign that I like quite a lot. I took a movie of it, but I forgot that I don't know how to rotate Quicktime movies so if you want to watch, you will have to turn your monitor 90 degrees, clockwise. Wait, I heard something was invented...it's called, Technology!

I watched the sign for awhile while I steeled myself to enter the office of D'Mestiere Investigations' Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Rachel S. Graves, MD. It's in the one of the Jantzen Buildings where swimwear used to be designed and constructed. They aren't there any more though. Dr. Rachel S. Graves, MD is.








I entered. After some checking of information, some paying of co-pays, and some sitting and waiting, but not very much of that, I was called. First stop, scale. "Let's have you take off your shoes." 'Yes!," I muttered to myself. I had already transferred the contents of all pockets to my jacket. Looking skyward with a tacit thanks to the Two Bills, and of course, to Professor Javier Boleyn, I stepped on the scale. It beeped, the nurse wrote down a number and showed me to the exam room. Blood pressure--in good shape, as well it should be since I consume 3 different chemicals daily to keep it such. Nurse leaves room. A minute later, nurse comes back. "Is this what the scale read?" "It is." "You've lost weight--over 35 pounds, did you know that?" "Yes, I know," I said smilingly. "Were you trying?" "Yes." "Great!"



Well, keeping a long examination short, and being rather amazed that before the day was out, my test results were in (there's that technology thing again), I can report that Dr. Rachel S. Graves, MD was quite pleased with the results of the War on LARD! and especially with my commitment to continue the battle. She had nothing but praise for the genius of Professor Javier Boleyn, and for my execution of the 2-Step DUH! Diet. Well, she did mention that I am an American and not a Frenchman, and therefore, not entitled to guilt-free consumption of large quantities of wine. "That's OK," I told her, "I can handle guilt..."



Now then, I was feeling so righteous that I decided to waddle the rest of the way to work. I did so and took time to look at some sights, now that I had a certain lilt to my gait, a gift from the flying colors I earned there in the office of Dr. Rachel S. Graves, MD.






I noticed two of many signs advertising the Portland Timbers Professional Soccer (yawn...) Team. I wonder how Soccer Moms and Dads are going to reconcile the safety and inclusiveness of America's Least Favorite Sport, with the advertising campaign that features, for the most part, provocatively-clad young women with implements of destruction such as saws--chain and hand--and axes, and the motto "No Pity in the Rose City!"



Why, I even paused on the Burnside Bridge, vertigo raging, to take a picture of the Steel, Broadway, and Fremont Bridges on what was a great day to be waddling towards fitness.