Friday, August 25, 2017

My Wicked Smart, Wicked Talented, Wicked Beautiful Doctors

Dr. Nkechi Mbaezue, my internist. Laureate Medical Group

Dr. Chinenye Iheme, the kids' pediatrician. Woodstock Pediatrics

Dr. Edugie Asemota-Faure, my dentist. RA Dental Studio

This is a TOTAL rip-off of my Facebook post. But, it was a long post, and since I haven't been able to get my head working well enough to write the blog I WANT to write, due to medical issues, I'm re-purposing this, while I work on the REAL post about my visit to the hospital this past weekend.

Dear friends, I'm wondering who is left in Nigeria to take care of the medical and dental needs of their citizens!

First, our precious Alicia Ann had an appointment with her pediatrician at Woodstock Pediatrics (regular beginning of year stuff; nothing to worry about), and we were expecting to see Dr. Bear, who has been her doc for the past several years. Instead, we meet the lovely and talented Dr. Chinenye Iheme. She is sweet, high energy, instantly established rapport with Alicia, and gave me every impression of being knowledgeable about her work without being distant or off-putting.

Next, on Wednesday, 8/23/17, I met the internist who will be taking my case since Dr. Hight has closed his regular practice. Dr. Nkechi Mbaezue, at Laureate Medical Group in Holly Springs, comes highly recommended, and proved to have a great sense of humor as well as the same professional, teaching aspect I had come to appreciate so much in Dr. Hight, who straightened out the mess that was my medical condition over a period of 12 years or so.

And finally, yesterday I could not postpone having something done about my teeth any longer, so I got an appointment with my dentist since 2007, Dr. Roya Akbar at RA Dental studio. This time, however, she assigned me to work with Dr. Edugie Asemota-Faure, a new member of her group. She promptly spent the next EIGHT hours (not exaggerating) inside my mouth, ripping away broken teeth and fitting me with four temporary crowns. And all the while, she is gently checking on my well-being, letting me know what will happen next, and promising me that she is hurting me no more than necessary. Next week, she gets to extract two or more remaining stumps, and a couple of weeks after that, I get a new plate.

So: my gift-from-God, happily-ever-after trophy wife Vanessa, the elegant, foxy, praying black grandmother of Woodstock, GA, wants to know what I am doing, that in less than one month, my medical professionals have transformed from grumpy middle-aged white men to pleasant Nigerian ladies, doubtless princesses of the blood. To this I have but one response: "I do not know, sweetness, but God Bless America."

Peace be on your household.

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