Physician Heal Thyself

After yesterday morning’s workout, I took the long way around to my unit, detouring to the mail center and caught a glimpse of Black Bikini.

Lord help us ….. looks like she lives here.

Not tossing pool chairs this time, she was busy lifting up the lid to the pool skimmer basket.

Because I was standing outside the mail center, waiting for another resident to exit, I watched as she removed the basket, then took it to the shower.

Pool maintenance comes twice a week, but I guess she’s vying for the job.

She was chattering away as she worked, but not to herself this time — there was a man sitting in the shade, covered from head to toe — sun hat, shades, blanket, eating fruit.

"Hello", said he to me. "Do you want some bla bla bla".

I couldn’t hear what fruit he was offering, but I said no thanks. He continued to chat me up for a bit — not a word of which I could hear as he was seated so far away.

Just as the other resident exited the center and I was about to go in, Black Bikini returned from the shower area, pump basket in hand, looked over to see who her partner was talking to. Seeing me, she said "Hello", I said "Hi" and retreated inside the mail center bars from where I was able to get a quick 2 second video of her working at her pool maintenance job.

Thinking back on when I spotted her cleaning the pool chair by tossing it around (and maybe that wasn’t the only chair she cleaned since she thinks she’s pool maintenance, only the chair I caught her cleaning), it occurs to me that perhaps she was not talking to herself that day. Perhaps her partner was bundled up under the tree and I just didn’t see him.

So, whoever this new couple is, they evidently have decided to not live in their unit but to make the pool their home.

What with him covered and her prancing around half naked, I’m beginning to wonder. Lounging around the pool seems innocent enough, but my spidey sense is telling me something weird is going on, and I'm beginning to wonder what they’re really up to.

Stay tuned.

I’m off this morning to see that mythical creature — my general practitioner.

Finally, after three months, I’ve got an in-person appointment to discuss that skin condition I thought was a delayed reaction to Moderna, but which the phone visit doctor thought might be folliculitis and the doctor he set me up to see the following day said, "No. It’s not that. I don’t know what that is" and sent me home with a tube of hydrocortisone cream and a shingles shot.

Inasmuch as the medical professionals had once again failed to do their job, I reverted to holistic and I’m pretty sure what I am experiencing is yet another food allergy, a reaction to something I’m eating ... a simple rash.

Says a lot about the state of materia medica that, with all her medical training, the doctor who said, "I don't know what that is", couldn't even identify a rash.

At any rate, now that I myself have done the work the medical professionals should have done — diagnosed the problem, I need for the GP to confirm and schedule blood tests and/or set me up with a Specialist to determine what it is I have to now put on my not allowed to eat list.

I think it’s either brown rice flour or red bell peppers, but time and tests will tell.

Better not be tamales or sushi.

On another note, whatever classified documents the authorities are looking for at Mar-A-Logo have long ago been placed in the hands of No. 45's best pal Putin. Just sayin'

Lastly, just in case you haven't heard the sentences for the murder of Ahmaud Arbery.