Confused and defensive, I answered, "Yes I am. Why, what's wrong?"
I know that prattling off a bunch of medical lingo is a fast way to make friends, but I prefer to dramatize what I believe to be the discussion Levothyroxine is currently having with my brain. In this scene, I picture Ed Asner playing my brain, and Rob Lowe playing Levothyroxine.
(Curtain Up)
Levothyroxine: Good afternoon, Brain. First, I just wanna say that I'm a huge fan of your work. Unfortunately though, we've had some complaints about your performance.
Brain: Complaints? About what?
Levo: Did that neuron come by and let you know Samantha doesn't have a thyroid anymore?
Brain: It's possible. I can't recollect exactly. As you can see, I've got a lot on my hypothalamus today.
Levo: No worries. It's just that--well, ummmm . . . how do I put this diplomatically? . . . it's possible that you gave Samantha cancer.
Brain: What!? I would never do such a thing.
Levo: Well, it's a delicate situation and we have teams working all the time to figure out what exactly went wrong. She does breathe that Los Angeles air, but it could also be something in the milk she drinks. There does seem to be a family history so it could be you were working with contaminated information to begin with. Of course there is her penchant for sugar--
Brain: Levo, your point, please? I've got a progress meeting with the Amygdala in a few minutes.
Levo: Certainly. As I was saying, I've sent some messages your way letting you know that you can stop pumping out so much hormone. I'll take it from here.
Brain: Well, I just sent some hormones down there a while ago. Nothing out of the ordinary has been reported. None of this "Samantha doesn't have a thyroid" that you speak of.
Levo: Yes, that's where I come in. I've been called in to sort of . . . revamp the landscape, if you will? Samantha requires some specialized attention. I'm taking over this particular project so you don't have to devote so much time to it. I mean, I know the heart and lungs keep you busy. Listen, Brain, you will always be a part of this. I appreciate you laying the groundwork for me and I'll be sure to keep you updated on her progress, but it's time for you to back off a little and let me do my job.
Brain: And what if I don't back off?! What are you gonna do then, huh?! You replacement hormones come in here with your well-timed sparkly transmitters thinking you own the place. You know, I've been doing this job for almost 32 years and Samantha has been operating just fine. I don't believe your hippy voodoo replacement hormones are any better than what I'm pumping out up here. So, what do you think about that? Levothyroxine schmevothyroxine . . .
Levo: I know this is hard to wrap your brain around, but you are pumping out too much hormone. The bottom line is, if you don't stop, there's a chance the cancer could come back. We all just want what's best for Samantha, so I'm asking you--one chemical compound to another--to lay off. Right now, I'm keeping it low key; I'm asking you nicely. But, if you don't start cooperating, I'm gonna have to bring in more of my boys and we're gonna have to get rowdy, OK?
Brain: OK . . . fine.
Levo: Thanks, Brain. Hey, by the way, that dream last night with Samantha and Julie Andrews running a tannery--some really good stuff in there.
Brain: Aww, thanks. REM sleep and I were pretty proud of that one.
Levo: OK. Good talk.
(End Scene)
So, my doctor has upped my dosage and we'll see what transpires from here.
How much do I love you Tall Sam! Sorkin would be jealous :) Give em hell, your hormones that is.
ReplyDeletewe need to stage a reading of this....yeeeees
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