I Guess It’s My Turn Again
The last time I saw my “primary care physician” (A five dollar term meaning your GP doctor) he scheduled me for a “Medicare Wellness Exam.” That is another five dollar term meaning “A physical.”
I was supposed to have that done a couple of weeks ago, but I came down with the Mother of All Head Colds. For several days I was nothing more than a piece of meat with shoes on. I called the clinic and cancelled the exam. I later rescheduled it for about 10 days down the road. That was this morning.
8:50 AM is not my favorite time of day to be doing much of anything other than sucking on a coffee while sitting upright. A little after 8 o’clock I put on my jacket, grabbed my car keys, and headed for the car. Naturally, I hadn’t actually reached the back door when my gastro-intestinal tract said, “Not so fast there, Bucko. Let’s make a preliminary pit stop before going anywhere.” Never one to argue with my internal organs, I removed my jacket and went potty.
“Not so fast there, Bucko – chapter two.”
Before I got any closer to actually leaving – the phone rang.
My wife, the lovely and now dealing with the cold that I had last week, Dawn, answered the phone. I heard her mention my name. A bad sign.
I froze in my tracks and thought it good to wait until I could see how this phone business was going to play out.
Well, I can understand that. He spends all day, every day, with sick people. And this time of year all it takes is one stray microbe being sneezed on him to turn him into a Vegan Lunch Wagon with shoes.
There I stood by the back door not having had any breakfast because I was scheduled for a blood draw, and making sure I drank two bottles of water so I could fill the Dixie Cup I was sure that they were going to hand to me. I was also standing there wearing a short sleeve Hawaiian Shirt under my jacket to facilitate the taking of my blood pressure. I was hungry, waterlogged and freezing. And I had not had my coffee.
This is not how I want to start my day, and now I have to reschedule my physical for another day so I can do this all again.
Maybe the third time will be the charm.
I’ll call the doctor’s office and find another mutually agreeable time for this. I do want to get it done. We are leaving for Ireland in about four weeks and I would like some sort of health clearance before we take off. I know that he’ll tell me to lose weight, watch my salt intake, and to get more exercise – that is all a given. I just want to hear him say that I probably won’t spontaneously burst into flames as soon as we touch down in Dublin.
I’ll call and reschedule – but NOT until I get something to eat, take a whiz, and change into something warmer. That and after I go get myself some coffee.
If I try to make that phone call before I take care of these other life and death matters I’m afraid that I might just get snippy with the nurse and I don’t want to tick off the person who might be sticking needles into me.