Limbodacious

And Then I Found Fifty Dollars

I have been staring at a blank screen, cursor blinking, for five minutes.  I have been planning posts in my head for an entire week.  But for some reason, the words just aren't coming.

I thought I might do a little shtick on having a double scope done this past week, which, if you don't know what a double scope is, you are one lucky son of a bitch.  I thought that would be a good post, too.  I mean, come on, drinking four liters of a noxious liquid that causes you to spend an entire night on the toilet, not being able to eat for over 24 hours, having two cameras shoved in both ends of your body... that's good stuff there!  But I just couldn't put it all together somehow.

Then I thought I'd give a little update on my treatment, etc, but there's only so many ways to say, "This sucks and my leg hurts," without getting a little tiresome.  And thus here I am, at a loss for words.  So for now, this lame filler post will have to do. 

Don't worry. I'm here, I'm fine, I'm waiting for inspiration to strike.

In Praise of the Family Doctor

Let's be honest.  It has been a long, long time since I required the services of a family doctor.  But I needed to assign a primary care doctor for my insurance, and I had a slight cold that didn't seem to warrant calling my gyn/onc back from an out-of-town conference, so I figured what the hell.  I can go mingle with the people with regular ailments for a day.

So I looked up several doctors and compared them by hours of operation and proximity to my house, and arbitrarily chose Dr. Old School.  I went in for my physical feeling very smug, I probably know more about my condition than this run-of-the-mill hack, I thought with more than an air of superiority. 

The office visit started as hundreds of millions of similar appointments have begun.  The nurse walked me back to the exam room and took my blood pressure and temperature.  She quizzed me briefly on the reason for my visit and went to get the doctor.  When he came in (very soon after I might add), he did something that will forever endear him to me, something so radical and yet so simple.

He took all my vitals again himself.

It is rare to find a busy doctor who will even look up from the chart as he breezes through the visit, but to find one that will actually deign to take your blood pressure, now that is really something.  And he didn't do it in a that-damn-nurse-who-can-trust-her way, he did it in a I-am-taking-personal-responsibility-for-your-health-so-it-will-get-done-right way.  It was sweet and old-fashioned while still being a progressive step away from the impersonal care we have grown accustomed to.

He told me I was a special case that they had to keep a special eye on and spoke to me in a way that was at once grandfatherly and respectful.  He offered a home remedy for my cold and an advanced new treatment for my nagging bone pain.  He gave me a referral to an ENT, the one specialist I had not found in the area, who "is a friend" and will "take care of this insurance nastiness about the hearing aids."  The longing for the old days of medicine was obvious in his voice.

The feeling I get after a really successful doctor's appointment is incredible.  It is a rush of euphoria combined with the coziness of a warm fleece blanket.  This visit in particular confirmed my ardent hope that the kind of doctors we are all looking for, ones that pay attention and care, still exist. 

However, it did shatter my belief that they don't actually know what to do with those stethoscopes.