Walter.

I met my future husband.  O, wait.  I met the man I'd run away with if he'd ask me.  :)   Of course, then, once he's my husband or boyfriend he'll probably just flake out on me...so I'll just let him be what he's meant to be...my new doctor.

He isn't beautiful.  If I saw him on the street, he wouldn't turn my head.  But, he was  i n c r e d i b l e.  Wowza.   I went into the appointment feeling kinda guilty (because I've gained 11 pounds) and kinda silly (because of this rash thing I've got), and just generally down because I haven't had the best of luck with doctors in the past.  But, he didn't make me feel guilty or silly.  He didn't sit there in a stool and nod his head and smile (and he has less hair on his chin then the sunshine doctor) and act like he was listening without really hearing.  He was just...a comfort.  He told me, as he was listening to my lungs, that I have nice skin and I should keep it that way.  He asked me if I had an Irish heritage (I'm a mutt, but I'm pretty sure there's lots of Irish & German in there).  He asked me what brought me to NY (a boy).  He talked to me about my weight, but not once did I feel stupid or lazy or guilty.  He told me I was young & healthy.  He made me feel like I could do anything I set my mind to do.  I left out of there on a puffy white cloud of happy. 

Not once did he mention the word shingles OR tell me I just needed more sunshine.  Love.

I see him again in 3 months.  I can't wait.  I will be improved.  I want to be improved.  Because he believes I can improve.  He believes I can do better.  And, that, is all I ever really need.