etymology's not lost on me

As a writer, the history of a word or phrase fascinates me. How it's evolved throughout the years and how folks use it captures my attention. So it's no surprise that names interest me as well.

In breaking this blog's protocol, I'm going to share a name with you: the Receptionist. Her name is Theresa. The one who listened to my story originally, told me everything was going to be okay, and made it her mission to help us. She's the one who pushed reaching out to the drug reps, and hounding down the doctors. Our personal egg sherpa, if you will.

Curious, I googled the meaning of her name. I was raised Catholic, stopped practicing years ago, but I still remember my saints. Saint Theresa of Ávila is patron saint of the sick and ill. If my body's good at nothing else, with two different cancers -- plus PCOS -- under my belt, it's got the ill part down.

Seems only fit that the Receptionist, who made our situation hers, shares an etymology with such a saint.


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