YES, SOME WHO WANDER ARE LOST [F, 11-10-23]

CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith & Life for the Years of Winter—YES, SOME WHO WANDER ARE LOST [F, 11-10-23]

 

As a biblical scholar, I am aware that the Hebrew children wandered in the desert for 40 years because Moses was a real man. He refused to ask directions.

It’s kind of like I wandered in the hills of Bloomington last week.

My doctor is too observant for my own good. I was in a couple of weeks ago for a regular checkup. I’ve been going to her for 8 years. She said, “Your posture has changed. Your head isn’t on right. I think you have osteopenia. You need to go to a hidden place on South Sare Road to get a dexascan.” A DEXA Scan figures out if you have weak bones.

Well, I know I don’t have weak bones. For one thing, everybody says that the best thing for making strong bones is walking, and I’ve been doing that every day for years. However, I have noticed that I can’t tip my head back far enough anymore to get the last of the root beer our of the can, so I made an appointment.

To get to South Sare Road from our house, it is necessary to go through the round-about from hell. A dozen lanes, maybe more, all marked with incomprehensible hieroglyphs, all of them full of cars and those infernal university-town pay scooters at all times of day. Normally, if I have to go east from our house to some place in town, like Target, I take I-69 to Indianapolis, around Indy on I-465, and back down through Columbus on I-65, coming into Bloomington east of the roundabout. It’s 100 miles, but much easier than going through that Sare Road roundabout.

I didn’t have time for that, though.

Helen has been to the dexa scan place before, and acknowledged that it is hard to find, so she offered to take me. I said, “Any high school graduate, with average intelligence, can find a dexa scan joint.” Apparently I am too educated and too smart.

I turned where she told me. At least, I think it was where she told me. They weren’t there. Maybe they moved.

Their address is Creeks Edge Road. No medical facility should have an address like that.

That area of town is quite elegant, and so the road signs are, too, meaning that they have white letters on a gray background in an incomprehensible but elegant font. I had to stop at each sign and get out my binocs to read it. None of them said anything about a creek, let alone an edge.

Undeterred, I kept driving, up and down hill and dale. I drove so far I had to stop twice for gas. I tried, but I could not find the place. Yes, I did all the stuff you’re thinking I should have done…

My friend, Bob Hammel, legendary sports writer, recently broke a leg. His wife no longer drives, so I told him that while I am not physically able to do be much help these days, I could take him to doctor appointments and the like, because I’m still a reliable driver. Helen said, “Bob’s articles and books are famous for truth and accuracy. Do you really want to tell him that?”

John Robert McFarland

Don’t worry. I’m okay. Turns out my bones are dense enough. I just need to get my head on straight.