Monday, June 23, 2014


After I get our bikes upstairs, I flop on the couch and check my phone. Sure enough, there's a message, and from less than 10 minutes ago, too.

"Scott, it's Doctor A calling you," he says, his rich, maybe Israeli(?) accent coming through the tiny phone speaker. "Your blood work is on the upside of normal, but your ultrasound has some benign issues, which I need to talk to you about when you call tomorrow."

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