Did I mention I hate to visit the doctor? It's not unusual, most people dislike being sick, and many like myself are needle phobic. There is never anything pleasant about being sick, except maybe the part about getting well again. I'm pretty healthly, the only thing that really makes me sick is breathing. The air quality has become less safe for most people in urban areas to breathe, and having chronic sinus trouble makes it parcticularly hard for me. I take a few different kind of meds for my condition. These meds are vital to my good health, because without them, I become a gasping, wheezing, sniffling person, and I get very unhappy.
My doctor will only give me a three month prescription for my meds. It could be that she wants to check and see if I have any strange reactions to the drugs, but I've been taking them for ten years now, and if they were going to cause my liver or my kidneys to quit functioning, I think it would have happened by now. I suspect that my doctor is adept at milking my health insurance for every dime that she can, and the three month rule is to get me back in the office for expensive bloodwork and all of those extras. When I am nearly finished with my supply of drugs, I begin to get a little panicky and start to feel short of breath. I always try to get my doctor to call in a re-fill for me to avoid the needles and other indignities that I have to suffer through when I go to her office, but she always insists I come in for a check-up before re-filling my prescription.
My doctor reminds me a little of Margaret Cho's mother. She speaks very little English, and she always seems angry. When I get to the office, I get stuck with a couple of needles, and then I get my blood pressure taken. The fear of needles always raises my blood pressure, so now I am on meds for hypertension. I always dread stepping on the scale, because when I gain a few pounds she tells me, "You FAT! What you eat? Cheeseburger?" When I admit to an occasional Big Mac, she says, "Why you no eat TOFU? You lesbian! All lesbian eat tofu!"
Did I mention that I couldn't get my lesbian card renewed because I hate tofu?
So yesterday, I had to endure the three hours in the Doctor's office having my various bodily fluids examined and sitting for hours in a waiting room filled with sick people coughing and sneezing. By the time the Doctor Cho was ready to see me, I felt a little feverish. I stepped into her office and she said,
"You still FAT! You more fat!"
"Doctor Cho", I said, "maybe there's something wrong with my thyroid!"
"Oh Yes! Thyroid! I check now!"
So she grabbed a hold of my throat with her thumb and index finger and squeezed so hard that I thought I might choke. I made this gurgling sound and waved my arms in pain, but she kept on squeezing.
"Oh thyroid swollen!"
Yeah! maybe cause she almost popped it!
"You need test!" She scribbled some notes on my chart.
If I could have made any sort of sounds come out of my throat, I would have said,
"Yeah and you need a hot tub for your summer home", but I couldn't speak, I could only hold my throat.
I left the doctor's office with my life saving medication and a promise to eat more soy products. I got home and immediately made some tea and got into bed. This morning I woke up with the flu and glands the size of golf balls.
I wonder if those of us who have health care are any luckier than those who don't? I wasn't sick when I went to the doctor's office, but I am now. Maybe those people in Canada are better off having to wait weeks to see a doctor?
