The Devil's in the Details (aka Pt. 4)

As I remember our dialog it pretty much consisted of me rattling off research stats, obvious similarities between tests subjects and myself, and detailed accounts of success stories, etc.  Pausing for a breath the doc chimed in with, "I can see you've made your mind up."  He's right.  I had.  He admitted it would be a waste of everyone's time for him to try and talk it down.  Right!  Smart doc I've got, ain't he? I followed asking if he'd be willing to recommend me for the needed tests?  Well, sure he said but didn't reach for a pen or paper to write an order.  He warned insurance probably wouldn't pay.  Well, I asked, would you if I'd pay in cash?  Arrogant sounding, I realize, but would a thousand dollars stand in anyones way when there's a cure on the other side?  "OK, then," he said, "once all that is said and done what next?" What next?  What next?  It still hadn't sunk in that I'd gotten that far.  Well, I'd need the Liberation procedure of course.  "And no one 'round here is gonna do that," the doc explained.  I questioned why he couldn't step up and be the first in the area?  Silence.  Getting my second wind I proclaimed I'd cross that bridge when I got to it, I'd even cross it overseas if need be.  Sensing my excitement and maybe even picking up on a bit of my enthusiasm he promised to do some research of his own.  Skeptics are thinking, Angela, you dummy, he's simply putting you off.  Maybe, but he did say if I hadn't heard back from him by Monday to call him.  Oh, and I will.  I left his office disappointed I'd not said enough.  I wanted an order for testing in hand.  A plane ticket even!  Something.  Anything.  I wanted a mission like the Wizard had give Dorothy. Snuggling with Gooch on the couch later that afternoon it began to come clear.  Sunday's message:  wait!  A door will open.  Relax, already!  Stress can cause exacerbations, silly girl!  I took time off my research bender to watch 'Lost.'  Ever notice the Biblical parallels becoming more prevalent?  But that's a blog for another day. Guess what?  A door opened.  Wednesday morning an e-mail from a study in New York arrived.  They are wanting more info from me, details, hmmmmm.  So I'm gonna have to call my doc back to get a MRI scheduled.  So if he's at least half as competitive as I am he won't want to be one upped.   It could be that this slightly opened door could come swinging all the way open.  There's a cure I tell you.  I can see it now.  I can almost even {stretch} {stretch} reach it.