We went both days. On Saturday while heading down town after the first session, we met the Ito brothers and their friend Satoshi on the train. At the square, we found the wait line and stood in it just to get a taste for it. Not a minute later, a woman with a very concerned look on her face approached us and asked if we didn’t have tickets, then offered us two. We took them and searched out the Itos, but they refused our donation, admitting that they had two tickets ready for the priesthood meeting. I’m not sure whether Satoshi was able to get in with them.
On our way home on Saturday night, I religionized a bit with Myeong-seon, asking her what Adventism, upright and typically agreeable though I perceive its members and doctrine to be, truly possesses beyond any other Christian denomination. I think it was my most direct effort so far, and I won’t be surprised if that is the last I ever do of it.
On Sunday we repeated the schedule. I’d watched the priesthood meeting in the North Visitors’ Center, and that’s where we sat on Sunday afternoon. We took the train directly back to the Sandy stop afterward to catch the 811 back to Provo. I think I finally met Sister Enkhbold on that day, the one I’d once referred to my on-line friend, Munkhgerel.
On the Friday before, we’d planned to bus to Salt Lake. I’d gotten an e-mail earlier, which I just remembered after our weekly Cannon Centre visit (joined by Mai), about a long-overdue China Hong Kong Mission reunion with President Hinton. I had scheduled Feng Yu for buddy studdy, but took her with me instead. I saw Michelle Bonnet, Sister Erickson, Sister Wilson, Sister Berry/Pankratz, Sister Snyder, Sister Yun/Burby (she’s the only one I didn’t get to talk to), Elder Winn, old Elder Mak (my trainer’s trainer), the Conley couple, and, of course, the Hintons, as well as a couple others. I overstayed a bit, but before rushing off to catch the bus, I was offered a ride to Salt Lake by the Harris couple, senior missionaries from 2003-2004. I accepted; they followed me to my apartment as I dropped off my bike, then went and collected Myeong-seon from the bus stop. They live very near my family’s house in Salt Lake.
On Sunday, my chest had ailed me again, but not badly. The pain returned on Monday evening, and I determined to visit the BYU health centre as my mom had advised. I began once more to prepare for my departure from this interesting life toward a more interesting one. On Tuesday morning I did so; I wasn’t able to schedule the "internist" clinician till Thursday.
After checking in and having some initial measurements taken, I was met by Doctor Bergeson, a somewhat older fellow. He interviewed me about my situation: the nature of the pain, whether I had had any trauma or infections, whether I could instigate the pain. Next he checked my heart beat and breathing with his stethoscope. He heard nothing unusual with the heart, nor any "rubbing" as I inhaled, which to him ruled out periocarditis and pleurisy. He concluded that my intercostal tissue perhaps was irritated. He said that there were a variety of causes of such a condition, and suggested that I had the options of 1) not treating it, 2) applying ice, or 3) taking Ibuprofen.
Since the pain had dissipated, I trusted his decision. I left the check-up feeling enthused that I still had a while left to live.