Idle American: One grateful guy

The Holy Bible teaches that it is more blessed to give than receive. Many folks along the way have - through various ways - expanded boundaries of giving. Someone campaigning for increased giving to the church reminded that “the Lord also accepts from a grouch.”

How grateful I am, as 2025 closes out, to be the recipient of much good provided by health care professionals. The generous spirit of many warrants the greatest of blessings. Thanks to them, I’m still vertical and ventilating at age 88.

Some already have been enumerated in past columns, but, an admitted victim of terminal senility, I want to say “thanks again” at this Yuletide season.

I’d be remiss not to begin with the cardiologist who has kept my heart ticking since my quadruple bypass surgery in 1998. Only recently did he “get off my case.”

This spring, he informed me of his upcoming retirement plans to spend most of it near Estes Park, Colorado, where his beautiful Rocky Mountain home was near completion. I was stunned, feeling like Bill Murray in the movie What About Bob?. (You remember it, the one where Bill couldn’t believe his

psychiatrist was going on vacation, leaving him to find his own way psychologically for a couple of weeks. So, he followed the doctor and his family as they tried unsuccessfully to get away from it all - and from Bob).

Anyway, as my final appointment ended, he mentioned that I was welcome to drop by if ever in the Rockies.

I’d never been to Estes Park, but saw the exit sign as I motored toward Casper, Wyoming, some three months later. I called to see if I could take him and his wife to lunch on the way back through, but he made a better offer. He offered to prepare lunch, “rather than deal with the throng of tourists.” (Later, I learned that tourists had pretty much cleared out a few days earlier.)

Sure enough, Mrs. Willard and I watched him prepare a wonderful, semi-healthy lunch. It was served a bit late, since I was lost in the mountains before finding their home. He was accustomed to my being late for appointments, so no surprise there.

Sadly, my gullet seems to be thickening, too, so Dr. Kamal Syed enters the picture for an esophagus stretching procedure that often requires repeating.

He has remedied this issue three times now, always in an excellent manner.

Now, I can even spell “gastroenterologist.”

More recently, Dr. Ivan Vrcek worked his magic to restore the “lift” in my upper eyelids. They now are as much “like new” as old body parts can be.

My eyesight is fully restored thanks to this oculoplastic surgeon.

Whatever, I can view upcoming days with eyes wide open and through eyeglass lenses slightly rose-colored. If my lower lids give way, however, I may use them for rain gauges.

My dentist, Dr. Marshall Brown, must be credited. It was once said of Fort Worth Star-Telegram columnist George Dolan by one of the world’s greatest sportswriters, Blackie Sherrod, that “before God made George, he broke the mold.” (Maybe I’m from a broken one as well.) I won’t go quite that far describing Dr. Brown, but his mold may have had a slight crack in it.

At first glance in his office, one might think him to be all about sports, this proud graduate of the University of Texas. He is that, what with dozens of football helmets adorning shelves, and him in bright orange scrubs.

But, he’s much, much more, this world-class dentist with a good word and warm heart for all.

Then there’s Dr. Gerald L. Chase, our neighbor for a couple of years. It was his smiling face I recognized upon gaining consciousness in the hospital following cardiac arrest that interrupted my announcements from our church podium 50 months ago.

I am thankful for him and his charming wife - former nurse Layna - a pair whose medical expertise is remarkable, and their friendship, treasured.

Finally, a “thank you” to United Healthcare for bearing the financial brunt of my health issues.

Dr. Newbury, a speaker in the Metroplex, may be reached at 817-447-3872; email: newbury@speakerdoc.com. Column audio version at www.speakerdoc.com.