Another reason I like Seattle

I spent almost five years in D.C. without a primary care physician. It wasn't for lack of trying. But every time I needed to see a doctor, they either weren't taking new patients or their first available appointment was in 2009. I was told more than once to use the emergency room if I wanted urgent care. Eventually, I just started going to the nurse practitioners at the Marie Reed School's clinic in Adams Morgan, which I'm pretty sure wasn't intended for people like me (i.e. insured). But they were the only health care professionals that I could see without having to know five weeks in advance whether or not I would need a doctor.

(This, by the way, is what you blog about when you have nothing to say.)

It took me all of four days to find a PCP in Seattle. The receptionist even sounded apologetic for making me wait four days for my appointment.

I saw my new doctor (nice guy) this morning to get a referral for a physical therapist for my ankle (basically, years of sports injuries have left me with the connective tissue of a 65-year-old). He asked me where I lived and said, "Well, I'll send you to Jennifer Lesko, then." Which happens to be the exact name of an ex-girlfriend. It's a different Jennifer, of course, and my panic passed.

Also, I've learned that taking a red Solo cup full of delicious tomato-based dip is enough to earn you a nickname. T.C. received this email this afternoon:

"You guys up this week? Should be some good games on...

When: Thursday
Where: Sport bar
When: 6:30pm

Tylers- can you invite salsa boy."