A pool just worked its magic again, connecting me with people who I didn’t know I needed to know.
As you may remember from a recent post, I met a water exercise teacher on Christmas Eve who teaches from the same playbook as I did. She encouraged me to write an article about how much water fitness impacted my survival and recovery from a serious illness last year, and I’ve just submitted it to the Aquatic Exercise Association, which certified both of us. I now look forward to Marcy’s class every week, thrilled to be a healthy student!
The other reason that connecting with Marcy was a remarkable coincidence is that her husband is a vascular surgeon familiar with arterial aneurysms. He has the expertise that dcotors used to save my life in Amsterdam and to monitor my recovery in Florida (thank you Shands Hospital in Gainesville, about 5 hours north), only he is just 20 minutes down the road from my home in South Florida. Jack Zelzter is at JFK Medical Center. Marcy urged me to contact her husband.
Dr. Zelzter and I exchanged emails — “Be glad to help if I can,” he said — and I put off doing anything else for a while. Then, my husband reminded me that taking care of my health should be my number one concern (as compared with editing my Foreign Service memoir like a fiend for the past month) and so I called Dr. Zeltzer’s office last week to make an appointment. One last hurdle — they need my pertinent medical records faxed first. I pulled my copies and prepared to send them over today, after a swim at gym on my way.
There were a couple of people doing laps when I got to the pool. Getting a lane isn’t usually a problem — the concern I have is that I’ll pick an hour when no one is swimming. One reason I swim at the gym instead of in the community pool in my neighborhood is that I am finally smart enough, and old enough, to heed the advice to never swim alone. Oh, and I’ve promised my husband, too, that if there’s no one in the pool I’ll keep upright and do a water workout. But it’s not the same as the Zen of a lovely long swim.
So I took the empty lane and pushed off. Eventually, my strokes became smooth, my breath took over, and the water slipped by like silk. About a half hour later, I pulled off my googles.
The woman swimming in the next lane was finishing up, as well. She was a good enough swimmer to have mastered the flip, something I never did, and I liked the variety of her workout. So, I told her so, and we started to chat while we stretched in the water. One thing led to another, and another amazing coincidence emerged.
Maureen is a nurse at JFK Medical Center who has worked with and admired Dr. Zeltzer for years. “You’d be in excellent hands,” she said, when I told her my story. So, another testimonial, and another Locker Room Lady friend with whom I’ve exchanged phone numbers. I faxed over my records and will call tomorrow to make an appointment.
I can’t go wrong. There’s too much going right.