Thursday, January 12, 2012

The Cure Might Kill You


Yesterday I was all a-glow with the onset of much lower blood pressure.  That was early a.m.  Come mid morning your blogger friend was bleeding out of both ends.  Yup.  Blood.

As a young pup back in the day, when there was a cut on a finger, leg or whatever I'd go screaming into the house, I'M BLEEDING BLOOD!  I'M BLEEDING BLOOD!  BLOOD!!!!  I'M BLEEDING BLOOD!

Mom, being a less than compassionate person, "What did you expect to bleed anyway.  When you bleed there's blood."  Okay, duh. .. I get it, mom.

I called the family practice guy (you know, the jack of all trades, master of none dude) who said, through his nurse (didn't want to personally talk even though he was standing by the phone) to stop the new medication, go to the lab for tests and make an appointment for Monday.  I did all of that. 

By noon there was no longer blood in the urine or stool so it was safe to once again cautiously smile.  Whew.

Now you'd think given the cirumstances that the jack of all trades/master of none would have called later in the day or early evening.  You know, just to check up to see how I'm doing and if I'm bleeding to death.  Nope. I'm thinking that (a) He didn't want to speak personally on the phone and (b) No call to check on me equals:  What's wrong with this picture?

This is not to say that telephoning a patient after the fact is an unusual practice.  The last visit to the ER after the head being banged bi time by the sailboat's boom (gotta watch those jibes ... they can be killers. .. real knockouts), brought an evening phone call by the attending physician to see how I was doing.  That's an ER doc with lots to do and people to see yet had time to ring me up. 

My dentist calls when there's been issues/pain/I'M BLEEDING BLOOD! deals.  Nice guy who follows up.  Means a lot.

My jack of all trades doc is a pup.  Wet behind the ears.  Came with glowing recommendations.  Nice guy.  Everyone says he definitely knows his shit.  But I'd have to add to all that that there's an exception:  His bedside manner sucks. 

I have to think since there's no follow-up that he's the kind of guy who leaves his dirty socks and shorts in a corner in the bedroom. .. leaves the toilet seat up with no regard for his wife and daughters, leaves a 10% tip even when service in that fancy restaurant is outstanding, and irregularly visits his patients who he had hospitalized.  You now the type.

At this juncture, given the resolve of whatever it is that ailes me, there's the distinct sense that I should move on to another physician.  Yes.

Changing docs is nothing new.  I go through them.  Take my first Cowtown physician.  I was out of there after the first rectal exam.  No comment on why.

Second doc:  Lovely lady.  Damn, she was the best.  Really.  But the chick had to go and divorce her husband.  The smoke of the divorce had hardly cleared when she hooked up with a drug sales rep (yes, 2 and 2 still make 4) and left Cowtown with him to live in another state.  Drats!

Third doc, also a female:  Whoa, bad news chick.  Too serious but that's okay for someone you're trusting your health and life to.  It all got down to her not renewing a prescription unless I had a blood panel done.  I'd been on this particular pill for well over 15 years and never, ever had any of my physicians made such a demand.  As most of you well know, no one and I mean no one tells Bob what to do.  Follows orders and other people is not a Bob thing.

On that day I was in for a yearly exam and the demand she made was off the get-go.  After her statement I buttoned up my shirt, put the tie back on and said, We're done here . .. and walked out.

Fourth doc:  Great guy.  Was just getting to know him after 3 visits when he decides Cowtown was not for him and left town.

Fifth doc:  A family friend with a clinic.  Short term with limited services.  Good person to fill in the gap until I found the next physician.  Actually, this guy recommended number 6.

Sixth doc:  That would be who's attending to me (or not attending) now.

Time for the seventh doc.  Ya think?

TMI?  I just had to vent. 

The photo?  Of a pond around the corner from the house.  Nice trail around it that's paved.  Wonderful place to walk the dogs.  Lots of water fowl.  An abandoned beaver lodge still sits on the lake.  Fish.  Mostly quiet.  It made for a great walk with the dogs following the I'M BLEEDING BLOOD! deal yesterday.

I needed that.

1 comment:

La Roo said...

Blood is not fun.
I'm glad you don't settle. You are paying these people and there is no good excuse for half ass care or lack of compassion. Yes, we all have off days but it seems this dude is no fully in the game.
I have gotten up and walked out on a doctor or two in my life. People think they have to settle or don't have a choice....nope. You deserve the best care and an open ear and someone who actually gives a damn (or at least pretends to)
I hope you are doing good today and you get another appointment with someone else soon.

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Whiskeytown Lake, Very Northern California, United States