Saturday, July 23, 2011

Doctor Visit

I went to the doctor's office yesterday because of the disgusting cough I've had for a month.  It's my three-pack-a-day-chain-smoking-trucker's-wife cough, as I so fondly like to call it. I had to see a new doctor, since mine heard I was coming and took a vacation day. It was an interesting visit.  The "new" guy, who didn't want to share his name or where he usually practices, peeked his head in the examining room cautiously, then burst in real quick, shook my hand so fast I thought I'd imagined it, and asked what the problem was. 

"Well, I've had this cough -" I started, and I was gonna explain and maybe work up a good hacking cough for example, but he jumped up, told me to hold on, and he'd be right back in two shakes of a lam'bs tale and he was back out the door.  He was back in less time than it me took to work up a good hack and shoved some literature at me about middle-age women and their health. I was not amused.  "Sounds to me like a low grade infection left over from that last cold you had.  You need an antibiotic."

Shyeah, right!  What a quack.   I don't need an antibiotic.  He probably went to Micky Mouse Medical School.  I started to explain my theory that it was GERD caused by my acid reflux, which has caused my esophagus to erode, or at become inflamed, causing me to cough.  The second option is cancer.  I'm shooting for GERD because it's outcome is a little more optimistic and I don't believe in being an alarmist.

I explained all of this to him in terms a five year old could understand, and the whole time he just kept writing out my prescription for an antibiotic and a cough medicine.  When he was finished, he tore it off the pad, waited not-so-patiently for me to finish, handed me the script, and said, "I'll tell you what.  How's about we try this first, and if this doesn't work in a week, we'll try your theory?"  And he walked out the door, totally leaving me hanging before I got to tell him about my big toe hurting. Donald Duck Quack doctor. Went to college at Disney World, I bet.

As I was checking out, he rushed out of another exam room and hollered, "Call if you aren't better in a week!" and ducked around a corner before I could thrown something at him, like the bird.

But I filled the prescriptions today, and I must say after my first dose of antibiotic (at least he noticed I'm allergic to penicillin) I haven't coughed at all.  Maybe he's not all bad.  But next time I want my doctor back that at least listens to me. Sheesh. My insurance pays for that hour and a half of his time.

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