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Hmmm. I wonder how far into my doctor alphabet I’ll get.

Correction: Dr. aa. Yep, I really did it. Left my neurologist/movement disorders specialist, off the list. No comment.

Dr. aa. My neurologist/ movement disorders specialist, the queen of all my docs.

Dr A. primary care. Self-explanatory.

Dr. B. This one is a mere PhD as opposed to an MD but I see him more frequently than any other. Plus he worked hard to be able to put those letters after his name. Plus he’s called Dr. B ( though not by me. I call him by his first name.). Ladies and gentlemen, meet my therapist.

Dr. C. Psychiatrist. Twice a year to monitor use of anti- depressants and now, since I’ve become a Parky, administer my cognition testing.

Dr. D. Eye doctor. Mostly routine check-ups but recently developed a condition called blepharitis. Translation: itchy, watery eyes. So annoying.

Dr. E. Endochronologist. Have developed a problem with my parathyroid. I forget what that is. I also have nearly lifelong underactive thyroid for which I take a daily pill.

Dr. F. Dermatologist. Annual screening for skin cancer, of which I’ve had a few tiny ones. No biggie.

Dr. G. Dentist. I don’t think anyone will question his inclusion. Irrelevant fact: I went to camp with his mother.

Dr. H. Periodontist for gum issues. This one hurts.

Dr. I. Ear Nose Throat person. Yes, ready to admit defeat in the hearing loss department. . Have appointment for hearing aid fitting. Bring it.

Dr. J. Allergist. Testing to determine cause of itchiness all over especially skin on right boob. Why? How?

Drs. K- O. Assorted docs at urgent care for a handful of suspicious sore throats. None turned out to be either COVID or strep. It was always just a cold.

Those are the official ones. This might be a Boston thing, but I have a lot of doctor friends. This is not by design, nor do most of them even know one another. Weird, huh?

P-U. I call these the unofficial ones, the physician friends I occasionally annoy with questions for medical advice. I remember once asking a friend , during dinner at his home, to look at a bump on my hand. “Let me think back to my derm rotation,” he said, laughing. He is a psychiatrist.

V-Z. The doctors in my future. Sounds like the title of a romance novel.

I decided to conduct an informal poll to see how many friends frequented enough doctors’ offices that they felt comfortable counting visiting physicians among their hobbies. The resounding conclusion was – lots. Probably even most. More than one told me “Even though it’s not the case, it feels like I see some health care provider or other at least once a week. (That would make a great chapter in the yet-to-be-written guide What to Expect When You’re Aging: My Doctors, My Hobby).

And yet, I think of myself as a healthy person. Crazy, right? I go about my business, same as always. Yeah, I sleep more than I used to, though I may be getting a handle on that one. Yay! My brain operates well enough, albeit more slowly, and of course there’s the pain associated with Parkinson’s. Yet if you met me today, you’d probably see ( or so I wish to believe) a fairly robust and yes, healthy person.

This might be a case of denial as an effective coping mechanism. And why shouldn’t I deploy such a mindset if it helps me feel strong and yes, healthy?

Still, I hope not to make too many more dents in the alphabet. And why on earth would I? I’m 73 is why.

Recommendation (more like a life hack):

I’ve been told there are three things one must do daily for ten minutes each in order to maintain brain plasticity:

1. Read aloud for ten minutes

2. Write by hand for ten minutes. Um, I think we can all agree that Parkies have a doctor’s excuse for this one. Though we could probably handle a grocery list.

3. Math. I have no brilliant ideas here. Maybe volunteer to be the scorekeeper when you play Scrabble? I’m sure you can come up with something.