Wednesday, November 26

Driving Miss Daisy...Imagine the feeling of knowing that you are due on the set at 9:45 and a car is being sent for you. Gosh, does it get any better? All I have to do is spend a few moments in hair and make-up (actually just make-up), head over to wardrobe and then wait for the driver. Life is good. I can honestly say that I can get used to this red carpet treatment. Is this really how the stars are treated? The ride back is even better. They politely ask if I would like to make any stops. I’ve never asked them to stop anywhere. I would truly feel like I was taking advantage of the situation.

I really hate to feel like I'm imposing on people. Being a celebrity is not as easy as I envisioned. I’m feeling like a call to Oprah would have been a wise move. I have people stating that they don’t wish to bother me, so they don’t say much. Are you kidding me? When haven’t I enjoyed a good conversation? I’ve been asked if the car is warm enough, if I would like to stop for lunch … what is proper driver/celebrity etiquette? Oprah, could you possibly help out the local blogger? This is all new to me!

Well, before Oprah returned my call I was in trouble and I knew it. Imagine being dropped off at your destination. I walk through, everyone speaks and smiles. I head to the back and the door is immediately closed so that I won’t be disturbed. He enters the room and I know it’s time. He’s well distinguished, professional and has a calming spirit. Then he recites his lines from the script, “Judie, I don’t think you’re going to have chemo today. I don’t like the infection that is on your eye.” Oh, wait, give me a chance to find that page in my script. I can’t find it. Where is the line that I am supposed to respond with when my doctor ad-libs? Surely, this is a joke. He orders me to visit the ophthalmologist across the street. Okay, no problem. I can head right over.
Oh dear, my driver is gone and I don’t have a car. I am now feeling like a homeless women begging for help. Where do I begin? Pride is kicking in and I want chemo, but I’ve got to get to the ophthalmologist first. I call my husband; he’s uptown and can’t get help. Ummm, who's next? I’ve got a plan. This is when being nice to everybody you meet in life pays off. Yes, the secretary offered to take me over to the doctor’s office. Of course we all laughed when we realized that I don’t drive to chemo; I, “star-chemo patient” have a driver. It’s funny how everyone knows, but at that moment everyone forgot. I thought about walking. I could see the medical plaza, I just couldn’t get to it. After I told Karen that I would walk, she reminded me that it’s truly a couple of miles downhill and back up. Nope, that would not be my plan. Can you see the headlines? “One-eyed blogger collapses in Mooresville”.

Karen sweetly packs me into her car and drops me off at the doctor’s office. He calls my name immediately and rushes me to the back. He looks at my eye and adds a medication and sends me on my way, ensuring me that it will clear up in 10 days. He then announces that I can have chemo today and that he will call my doctor.

There I stand with a blank look on my face. I’ve paid my co-pay; that only took two seconds. I am now thinking, “How am I getting back to chemo?” Is anyone reading the script today? I don’t have a car!! Do I need to yell it from the mountain tops? Okay, I DON’T HAVE A CAR! And, I don’t have another ride until after chemo; which is three hours from now.

I call my girlfriend who works across the street at the local bank. Her voicemail message is so soothing and pleasant. However, I don’t want voicemail. I need a ride! Okay, I give up. I admit it … I'm stuck! I take a deep breath and remind the receptionist that I don’t have a ride back to chemo. The doctor overhears the story (I’m not embarrassed yet … hold tight, its coming). He’s a tall gentleman, somewhat young and nice on the eyes. He speaks. “Ms. Nix, I will take you back to chemo.” Yikes, the doctor of the practice is my driver today?! Yup, he sure is. Dr. Patel returns me to chemo and the day continues just as God planned.

Dr. Patel opens the car door for me and helps me in. I’ve gone from red carpet-star treatment, to feeling scared, desperate and alone straight to … "How you doing Dr. Patel?"

Don’t ever underestimate who may be driving your train. It’s not always who you think it’s going to be. Be willing to ad-lib in life. Besides, I really think that’s where the fun is.

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