Yesterday began with an unexpected, but pleasant surprise:  Mohamed's sister sent a camera pic of his birth certificate.  His mother had finally found the document after we had pretty much given up on recovering the original.  The green card application had been stalled until the original was found or a government-issued replacement was obtained. (The passive voice may be appropriate, since we didn't know who was going to be the agent to do either of these things.)  Now there are two more steps before we begin filling out forms and sending checks: the birth certificate must be translated by a government-approved translation service and Mohamed needs to make an appointment with the one doctor in Topeka who is authorized to attest that he has no communicable diseases.  These doctors are designated as U.S. Civil Surgeons, and why there are so few of them (there are only a handful in Kansas City, for example) I don't know.  Other than that, I think we have everything we need to file the application.  After filing, there will be a wait of three or four months, and then, if the application is approved, there is an interview with the CIS in Kansas City to determine whether our marriage is "real" or a marriage of convenience. 

One of Mohamed's classes was canceled yesterday, so we were able to leave Topeka early for our appointment at the Cancer Center and add a lunch with our friend T.J.  We met at Room 39 on Restaurant Row, or 39th Street just across State Line Road on the Missouri side of Kansas City.  It caters to the locavore crowd and is quite reasonably priced for such a restaurant.  It is also, unfortunately, extremely noisy.  I love duck, which isn't often available around here, and when I saw duck confit on the menu, I was extremely happy.  That isn't, of course, the most healthful preparation of duck, and by the time we arrived at the medical offices, my stomach was reminding me of that fact.  Still, I enjoyed the duck, and it was fun to see T.J. after two or three months.

We got to the Center at 2 and signed in.  My nemesis, Marci the Maladroit, was nowhere to be seen, and I was called immediately for the blood tests performed by someone competent.  There was supposed to be a 45-minute wait before we saw Dr. Van, and we had planned on going to the third floor to get the shot of Xgeva, but Dr. Van's nurse was waiting for us, and we went directly to the area with his consultation rooms.  First, as always, they took my vitals--all good although I had again lost a little weight.  (I always wear my shirt tails out now because the waist of my jeans has to be big enough, but then the legs and butt have lots of loose and baggy material, which is really unattractive.)  The blood work results were already there.  Basically, they were like always.  I'm slightly anemic, the Vitamin D count was low, but I take once-a-week massive dosages of the vitamin, and the thyroid count was also low, so I'm going to add a thyroid supplement to my daily regimen of pills.  Perhaps that addition will help relieve the fatigue.

Finally, we went to the third floor for the shot.  There was something of a wait (by this time, I'm tired, and we're both impatient), but we still got in long before the scheduled time.  The nurse, like all but one of them, believes in the slow injection of the medicine.  It burns as it goes in, and I much prefer the nurse who just shoots the medicine in in one fast motion. 

And then we were done for another six weeks and drove back to Topeka.  For the first time ever, I stayed awake for the trip home, though the moment we got here, I headed for the bed while Mohamed went out for sushi for my dinner (and Chinese food for his)--one-stop shopping at our neighborhood supermarket.

Friday started well with the birth certificate surprise and continued positively with the results at the Cancer Center.