Editor’s note: Mark Bradford is contributing occasional posts from his diary on traveling the country with his wife Wendy while they rent out their Mishawaka home for six months.
Day 114 of our 190 day sojourn
October 17, 2023 — Crossville, Tennessee
The Good News is that the name, Cumberland Mountain State Park, is pretty deceiving. Kind of like Park Place in New York City where it is pretty impossible to park your car. No mountain to climb here.
The Bad News is that it took us a long time to navigate through the hills of both Kentucky and Tennessee and when we got here, the smell of snow was in the air. Fortunately none of the white stuff showed up, but the smell was enough to make me want to throw up.
For some reason, the girl who runs the GPS in my car had an off day in getting us from Louisville to the park. I knew something was up when she added 50 minutes to the trip from her last night’s estimation.
Wendy will tell you that I like to take the side roads and Miss GPS was more than happy to blurt out the beloved, “Now turn right in three-fourths of a mile, then turn left.” But I only like to take side roads if it is me saying “Hmmm, I think if I turn left here, I can cut 30 minutes off the trip,” only to discover that the road I choose comes to a dead end at a closed bridge.
When we got to the park, we discovered what Tennessee means by deluxe cottage. The room reminded me of a bad 1940s movie or maybe the scene in The Natural where Roy Hobbs (played by Robert Redford) gets shot by a crazed fan.
Hopefully, Wendy will send a picture of it. Even Corky the dog gave me the WTF look.
But the most popular walk is about 1.5 miles around the lake and after three days of no exercise, I plan on getting back on the track Tuesday. No mountains, and 60 degrees. Perfect.
So I am not complaining and here is why:
Today a friend of Wendy’s got a test back (taken last week) from the doctor and if I thought GPS speak was bad, doctor-ese is even worse. Imagine worrying about the results back from a test that could change your life, only to be confronted with doctor-ese that said, well according to our very expensive test, our conclusion is that either you have a problem or you don’t.
I mean, I get it.
Wait! No, I don’t. Humana and the other insurance companies, aided by attorneys and accountants, have taken the Humanity out of medical care. The patient seems to be tossed around by folks who are hoping someone else will make the safe/not-safe decision. With all of our technology and research, it would seem that the process can be sped up and done at a faster and more correct pace.
Before all my medical friends go off on this, I simply ask how would you like to be handled if the life-changing test was being done on you? The individual had to wait two weeks just to get the test done. Two very nervous weeks, and then three days to get the “gee, you might have it” diagnosis.
So, I promise I will not yell at the GPS lady anymore when she has a bad day. At least she has never said, “This route may get you there or this may not. Pay up.”