A couple of entries ago, wherein I detailed some psychological and physical issues I've been dealing with here lately, I brought up the fact that I had agreed to see a doctor at the behest of my wife. I am here to say that I didn't back out of the arrangement and that I did, in fact, make a visit to a physician.
But am I all that better off for having done so? That remains to be seen.
This particular practitioner is one that my wife has been going to for quite some time, which is why I went with that office as opposed to somewhere else. Doctors are one of those sort of things in life where you seldom hear of a person simply thumbing through the phone book and saying "Okay, this guy doesn't seem like too much of a quack, I'll take him..." They usually go to a given clinic because of familial ties or some other bond that indicates having received a certain quality of service that makes returning worthwhile. The relationship that exists between a doctor and their client is one born out of trust, obviously, or so I would hope.
One of the issues I have with doctors is a perception of mine that practicing medicine nowadays isn't so much about providing care as it is about maintaining business and the high standard of living afforded by being a member of the monetarily elite in this country. This state of mind actually comes from the days of my childhood when I was regularly seeing a dentist (yes, you can infer from that statement that I don't go regularly anymore). The dentist I'd been seeing diagnosed me as having an abnormality with my molars which could be corrected through the application of a set of plastic caps. I don't remember a whole lot about the procedure itself. I went along with it, but what else was I supposed to do? I was a child and this guy had convinced my parents that it was necessary. Even at my young age I questioned the notion of it being something I truly needed, especially when I was told of how the caps could come off rather easily. What happens when they come off? Will I have to have this done regularly? If it's not a permanent fix, why bother? Is this actually a medical condition worth treating or did my Mom get made as a mark who's willing to fork over her money for the sake of her baby boy?
In my own mind, I ultimately settled on the latter. I went back to that dentist a few more times for cleanings but I drew the line when he began pushing for me to wear braces. That wasn't a process I was willing to endure. I told my Mom as much and she didn't go against my decision. Consequently, I never went back to that dentist. I imagine those caps he put on my teeth lasted a couple months seeing as how my Big League Chew addiction took precedence over them. The concept of patient care existing as a money-maker more so than a matter of genuine concern for a person's well-being has been with me ever since.
I've never been one to immediately seek medical assistance when I notice something going on with my body. For example, when I was a senior in high school I began feeling pain in my left foot that was bad enough to where I couldn't get around all that well. I kept walking on it for about a week because I assumed I'd somehow twisted my ankle, which I've always been somewhat prone to doing ever since my days as a stand-out local recreational league basketball player (it helped that I was one of the biggest 9 year-olds in the league). The pain became so bad that I finally succumb to it and got an x-ray which revealed I had a hairline fracture in one of the bones of my foot. I wore a cast on that leg for around 6 weeks - trust me when I say that you should consider yourself fortunate if you've never had to take showers with a trash bag taped around your knee.
By contrast to my state of mind, it seems like people these days will rush off to a doctor for just about any given reason. Can't kick that stubborn cough? Lets pay a visit to the ENT. Noticed an odd pimple on your forehead? Time to see the dermatologist. Having a bad day? No problem, get worked in and have a prescription for some Xanax and a muscle relaxer. My point is to say that I believe the human body has the capacity to service itself, to an extent, if we will allow it. Obviously there are some things that don't just get better by way of our immune systems, broken bones being one of them, and those are perfectly valid situations where a person should seek out medical aid. I don't think we should be going to the doctor over every sniffle, stubbed toe, and scraped elbow is what I'm getting at.
I also realize that I'm unfairly demonizing doctors, dentists, nurses, and everyone in between with these comments. I don't mean to say that you're an evil person if your occupation puts you into one of those categories because I know plenty of folks who wear scrubs to the office every day. Rather, I mean to say that you work for a business which is no different than any other in that the ultimate goal is to make money, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. I do, however, contend that some doctors see dollar signs when they look into a crowded waiting room instead of opportunities to legitimately improve lives. (I'd like to think that when someone signs up to go to medical school they do so with the intention of taking that knowledge and using it to help people instead of simply for the paycheck that comes with having earned the right to put "MD" at the end of your name.) The issue, for me, is that we're not talking about customers who are buying a car and are being told the benefits of upgrading to a model with a better package than the vehicle they'd been interested in. We're talking about people, their bodies, and ultimately the quality of their existence. Doctors have to realize the power of their influence; what they do with that realization in either using it to help or to harm is the larger issue.
There's that darn soap box again, always getting underneath me when I'm trying to write these blog entries...
All that having been said, Jill accompanied me for my visit. I kidded with her that her only reasons for going with me were to make sure I actually went and to get a free lunch out of it as we'd be passing by several of our favorite haunts during the drive to & from the office. The waiting room was empty when we arrived which was comforting to me; the last thing I wanted to do was go see a doctor when I'm not sick and wind up coming home with a bug received by having been in the proximity of someone who's not well. I didn't have to fill out any paperwork as I'd given them all of my insurance and personal information in advance. Within a few minutes I - well, we were called to the back and my examination began.
I wasn't surprised to find out that things haven't changed all that much when it comes to normal procedure for a doctor's visit in the years since I'd been seen. I was asked to stand on a scale so that the nurse could get my height and weight, neither of which is necessarily an easy process seeing as how the scales don't usually have the capacity to account for people my size. I'm a big guy but I'm not delusional because I know I've eaten way more than my share of cheeseburgers and chicken wings. In other words, I know I'm fat and I don't need a scale to remind me of this. When I was younger I got a tiny bit of amusement from watching the slide on the scale max out once I stepped on it, and that nor the results of an attempt to weigh me haven't changed. It's not as if it would be an accurate measurement anyway seeing as how I was wearing shoes, fully clothed and carrying my keys, wallet and cell phone. I am happy to report, though, that I'm apparently 6'3.5" - or so I am according to the nurse who was taking my vitals.
Next we went into the examination room, which of course is where all the magic happens. I sat down with the nurse and she began plugging in the data she'd collected on me thus far into an application on a PC in the exam room. I was intrigued by the software, naturally, and when she walked out of the room for a moment I had to fight an urge to have a look at the system for myself. This is another reason why it's good that my wife was with me; I have the same impulses but because she's there I have to consider the repercussions of embarrassing the both of us by way of my actions instead of just myself.
The nurse took my blood pressure and my heart rate, neither of which were all that superlative but this wasn't a surprise. "Do you have high blood pressure?", the nurse asked. The best response I could give was something of a shrug. Again, I'm fat, out of shape and I stress myself out over everything; it would've been a pleasant surprise if my BP had wound up being within a normal range but I knew that that wasn't going to happen.
Having done her job, the nurse left in order to make way for the headliner of the day - my new best friend, the doctor who'd be presiding over my care from this point forward. She and I talked about my concerns and issues I've been having, and she was very receptive in listening to me which I found to be right in line with everything Jill had told me about her. Based on our conversation, the doctor recommended that I have a sleep study done. That caught me off guard, to be totally honest with you. I knew I was in for some poking and prodding when I agreed to go down this path but I didn't think the process would go quite as quickly as it was.
The sleep study wasn't the only surprise Doc had for me that day. I had it in mind when I made this appointment that I may have to have blood drawn as that's a surefire way to know everything about what's going on inside a person, however nothing was said to me in advance about it. I assumed I was in the clear because I thought a patient was required to fast for 12 or more hours prior to having blood drawn so that a "clean" sample can be taken. Imagine my amazement when Doc sent the nurse back in to shove a needle in my arm! Good thing I hadn't had lunch yet, I guess, although in hindsight having a stack of pancakes with a half pound of bacon that morning might not have been such a good idea (I kid, I would never eat a half pound of bacon - it was fatback). To the credit of the nurse, she was very thorough in locating a vein and when she jabbed me I didn't feel much of anything. It became more noticeable after about the second vial of blood had been drawn, though, as the notion of a needle hanging out of my arm started to set into my mind. After she was done draining me, the nurse put a little wad of cotton on the injection site along with a piece of tape to hold it in place - not the gently removable kind of tape, this was the kind that takes every bit of hair with it when you inevitably yank it off.
At that point, there wasn't much left to do but pay the piper. Having been a member of the public sector for going on 6 years now, I can tell you that no one works these jobs for the fortune although the benefits package is quite nice. That said, I guess it's about time I got to use this medical insurance I've been paying for for so long now without ever really using it. Thanks to my coverage, a bill that would've cost me in excess of $100 wound up being around $20. I guess that's not too bad, all things considered, even though I left the office with less blood and money than I came in with.
I haven't returned to see Doc again as I'm waiting to have my sleep study completed before doing so, that way I can conserve some of my sick leave. Speaking of the sleep study, I'll be going in for it this Friday night. I'm a little concerned about it because I've done some research pertaining to what this type of procedure involves and quite frankly I don't know how comfortable I'm going to be with the wiring harness they put on you in order to record data while you're in Dreamland. Seriously, do a Google Images search for "sleep study" and look at the jumble of wires you have to wear - it's like they hand you a spool of random cables and Christmas lights then roll you down a hill, for crying out loud. I'm a side-sleeper, and not a particularly mobile one, so I imagine I'm going to wake up with a lot of interesting lines on my face from having laid on the wires all night.
I truly hope this test is useful, as in the people in charge of my care will be able to look at the results and tell me something other than "You snored while you were asleep...Don't do that.", because my wife does that for me right now. Likewise, I hope this whole process is beneficial in the sort of way that I'm able to learn about aspects of my life I can change to improve my health as that's what this is all about.
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