Friday, November 04, 2011
Doctors--lie down till the thought passes
I can’t see well (thanks to medical care I opted to succumb to), and never could drive, so even a routine doctor visit means getting a ride from my sister, who is willing, but I don’t want to wear out the option.
Then comes the paperwork—I don’t want to put my Social…that is discussed. Then the scale—yes, all ills, every one, stem from excessive size—so this is a big issue. I will not get weighed. Blah blah…that is not pleasant.
Then the long wait in the “little room.” Cold in there.
Then the doctor comes, eager to write a script, diddle with the computer, turf me to an expensive specialist—I don’t even have the $35 copay, people, but do the referral in case my ship ever comes in.
Say I get my hands on $35, then another ride…then the specialist…first the scale…nope—blah blah... Then probably an x-ray or test, meaning a ride, waits, etc.
Then try to get the results—no news does not mean you are OK, it may mean the test was done in the wrong name, it’s on someone’s desk, etc.
They want you to come back for another copay to hear the results—no, just tell me on the phone.
THEN, a recommended approach. But what if that is something I have tried that failed me (warfarin, for instance). Try physical therapy before anything more drastic? Good idea, but rides…I would need many rides.
Surgery? Lose weight first? We have discussed already.
Ack. I hate this. Why do they want us to live so long anyhow—they can’t afford us anyway.
Just writing this makes me feel like Jabba the Noncompliant Hut!