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Notebook Recollections: A Little About Me

Local icon Tim Rumsey walked to work most days from 1987 to 2000. He began as a form of exercise but kept at it for his love of local lore harvested through his interactions with people on the street. He began documenting his musings and eventually filled 53 pocketbooks with his observations. He continues writing about his observations to this day. Here is just one tale.
By tim rumsey, md
For the past four years I’ve written about so many interesting West 7th people and their interesting lives. Mr. Positive. Tex. Frank Heller. Mabel Knutson. The Lauer families. Blessed Thomas Mitchell. Dr. Ravi and Dr. Macken. Daisy Bennett. Mary Pesek. Johnny Paul. Walt Wietzke. Father John Clay. Dennis Morgan and his boys.
This month, let’s talk about me. “Solo Mea.”
For starters, I’m retired. 47 years of family doctoring on West 7th St. Grateful.
I read a lot of books. Well, three anyway. All Frank Heller recommendations. By the end of the third book, the first one looks so good, I start all over.  
I had a physical exam! With the great Dr. Ravi. 
I experienced many things. Waiting, filling out stuff, waiting. Dr. Ravi touched all the bases as they say. Then I gave blood and urine and spent a little more time waiting. Everything was performed with respect and dignity even though it took place in the parking lot – NOT.
Then Dr. Ravi gently gave me his verdict. A little overweight, a little out of shape. Labs pretty good. Blood sugar borderline. Just short of normal. Or more scientifically, as Ravi put it, “two circus peanuts shy of diabetes.”
It was all treatable – the dreaded lifestyle changes!
William “Texan” Dubois, West 7th cab driver extraordinaire “comped” me a ride home from my physical. 
I spilled Dr. Ravi’s verdict of me to Tex as we pulled away from the clinic.
Tex went silent and leaned forward to beat a red light at St Clair. Sixty miles-an-hour in a 30 will do that. 
“You could use a little weight management,” Tex said. He slowed closer to the speed limit. “I dropped 12 pounds last month.”
“Cool,” I said.
“Right,” he said. “Walk to work.”
“Whadayah think I’ve been doing for the last eight years ?” I said. “Sure, I’m retired. But I walk everywhere.”
“I won’t give you free livery passes anymore. Everybody wants to give you a ride. Don’t take all those patient rides.”
Tex said he could be my trainer.
We had reached my home.
“Thank you, Tex. For the ride and counsel.”
“Food for thought has no calories,” Tex said.
  Mr. Positive would be supportive. “Good,” he’d say. “You’re good.”
At night, every night, 8:15 PM sharp, I go outside to make sure the lawnmower is in the garage. Winter or summer. I make sure the front and back gates are shut and all the doors are locked.
Then I look to see that all the inside lights are off and the windows rolled down. Twice.
Did I mention I was retired?
One last thing. How about we talk about my 75 year old body’s elimination functions?
Ok, maybe not. 
How about this? Readers could write me (cuneiform), care of United Family Patients. Please print “Elimination Function Questions” in large, bold, red Sharpie on the front of the envelope.
Be reassured that clinic staffers will handle your written questions with BBQ tongs and hockey gloves. 
Daisy Bennett would appreciate that professionalism.
Well, enough about me. Next Month: somebody interesting. PLEASE.

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