Wednesday
Aug032005
Three Dressed Up As A Nine
Wednesday, August 3, 2005 at 05:22PM
(there's no hidden reason for the title other than it's an old song that was the last thing I heard on the radio this morning.... but it's been a while for lyrics, hasn't it?)
So, you know when sometimes you go to the doctor and you can't make him understand the urgency of your concern but then when they're the one's freakin' out then they get you all stressed as well? Like having a police car driving behind you and spending the whole time totally paranoid and running your entire life through your head?
Me, I had this doctor when I was a kid who ALWAYS said, "Well, let's just leave it a bit and see what happens." He told me I had a cold for a year once and it was asthma. Then he told my god-mother for two years she had the flu and then just residual chest congestion and she died of lung cancer from that asbestos factory she worked in for 10 years. Nice.
Inevitably, if I asked him about anything 'prematurely' it would mysteriously resolve itself within days. I had a wart one time that I'd had for 10 fucking YEARS which was gone when I got up on the day I went in to have it frozen off. I shit you not. Even the lump in my ear I had for 7 months that the doctor, when I finally asked, said was just a pimple - four days later, it popped (hey, I didn't know, I couldn't SEE IT). It's freaky.
Then again, have you come to expect anything less from me? Seriously, be glad you're not Matt or someone who knows me in real life - I'm exhausting.
ANYWAYS, after years of him I got into the habit of leaving things for like, 6 months to a year before I asked about them.
So, you know when you go to the doctor with something you think is tragic or skin cancer or the beginning of the end and they are just all totally unconcerned? Lacksadasical? Lassiez faire?
Like, remember? - when I went to LFD (little funny doctor, I miss him) and did the ... "MY GOD DOCTOR, WHAT IS THIS LUMP ON MY LEG? This red under-the-skin hard thing that's up here on the front of my thigh. It's been there for two years and SUDDENLY THERE'S A MATCHING ONE on the other leg. My life is over, it's spreading! Should I call a lawyer and make a will? Can you get me off work for the rest of my short little life? HEEEEEEELP!"
And he's like, "erm, they're little fat cysts. We could cut them out but then you'd have big scars. Like that one they cut out when you were 15 and left that big mark on your arm? Is it like bugging you? Does anyone see it? It's not like you're having sex or anything."
Nice.
Anyways, a few weeks ago during the extremely ill-advised 'weaning' and subsequent car wreck of the Jenster from the drugs, I mentioned that I'd been all kinda sweaty at night for the last 8 months or so.
HOLY SHIT. You'd think I'd suddenly just stood up, exploded and sprayed everyone with infected blood and spit. Pieces of paper started flying. There was muttering and forehead rubbing. Some squinting. A little doctor-restrained-like arm-waving.
I walked out of there with requisitions for five blood tests and a chest x-ray. Including FSH (for boys, that's the girly hormone) - even though I haven't YOUKNOW since Matt left in December, so you know I'm not preggers.
He made me promise not to look up on the internet what he was testing me for so I didn't frighten myself.
(Yeah, right)
Wow, this is getting to be a long story hey?
So, I went for the tests (and since it was two days before my birthday, got wished Happy Birthday in three different labs by a lot by people waving needles around) and never heard back. You know, that whole "we'll call you only if something's wrong" thing? My fantabulous GP's been on vacation but you know, I was completely unconcerned since I don't think there's anything wrong with me, apart from the obvious.
During my regular visit yesterday he went over the results with me.
Let's just stop a moment here and take a look at what I can remember of what he was testing me for..... Early menopause. (hello? just what I need). HIV. Pregnancy. Every blood cell count problem known to man. My thyroid levels. Some sort of rare thing to do with my joints or something that's really nasty and started with an S. The chest xray was for TB and da canca' (which means I can skip the September one this year, yay!) Nothing simple or MINOR, mind you, but all the huge big scary mo-fo nice-knowing-ya shit.
He says, "Well, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with you. You're really healthy. Every single test is in the normal range and your chest is clear."
(actually the report said "unremarkable" but I choose to believe there is nothing unremarkable about me or my chest thankyouverymuch so I let that one go.)
I said, "I KNOW, big guy, I KNOW I'm healthy. Do you think I might just be sweaty at night because I live in a big tin can in a rain forest?"
well you can say what you like
So, you know when sometimes you go to the doctor and you can't make him understand the urgency of your concern but then when they're the one's freakin' out then they get you all stressed as well? Like having a police car driving behind you and spending the whole time totally paranoid and running your entire life through your head?
Me, I had this doctor when I was a kid who ALWAYS said, "Well, let's just leave it a bit and see what happens." He told me I had a cold for a year once and it was asthma. Then he told my god-mother for two years she had the flu and then just residual chest congestion and she died of lung cancer from that asbestos factory she worked in for 10 years. Nice.
Inevitably, if I asked him about anything 'prematurely' it would mysteriously resolve itself within days. I had a wart one time that I'd had for 10 fucking YEARS which was gone when I got up on the day I went in to have it frozen off. I shit you not. Even the lump in my ear I had for 7 months that the doctor, when I finally asked, said was just a pimple - four days later, it popped (hey, I didn't know, I couldn't SEE IT). It's freaky.
Then again, have you come to expect anything less from me? Seriously, be glad you're not Matt or someone who knows me in real life - I'm exhausting.
ANYWAYS, after years of him I got into the habit of leaving things for like, 6 months to a year before I asked about them.
So, you know when you go to the doctor with something you think is tragic or skin cancer or the beginning of the end and they are just all totally unconcerned? Lacksadasical? Lassiez faire?
Like, remember? - when I went to LFD (little funny doctor, I miss him) and did the ... "MY GOD DOCTOR, WHAT IS THIS LUMP ON MY LEG? This red under-the-skin hard thing that's up here on the front of my thigh. It's been there for two years and SUDDENLY THERE'S A MATCHING ONE on the other leg. My life is over, it's spreading! Should I call a lawyer and make a will? Can you get me off work for the rest of my short little life? HEEEEEEELP!"
And he's like, "erm, they're little fat cysts. We could cut them out but then you'd have big scars. Like that one they cut out when you were 15 and left that big mark on your arm? Is it like bugging you? Does anyone see it? It's not like you're having sex or anything."
Nice.
Anyways, a few weeks ago during the extremely ill-advised 'weaning' and subsequent car wreck of the Jenster from the drugs, I mentioned that I'd been all kinda sweaty at night for the last 8 months or so.
HOLY SHIT. You'd think I'd suddenly just stood up, exploded and sprayed everyone with infected blood and spit. Pieces of paper started flying. There was muttering and forehead rubbing. Some squinting. A little doctor-restrained-like arm-waving.
I walked out of there with requisitions for five blood tests and a chest x-ray. Including FSH (for boys, that's the girly hormone) - even though I haven't YOUKNOW since Matt left in December, so you know I'm not preggers.
He made me promise not to look up on the internet what he was testing me for so I didn't frighten myself.
(Yeah, right)
Wow, this is getting to be a long story hey?
So, I went for the tests (and since it was two days before my birthday, got wished Happy Birthday in three different labs by a lot by people waving needles around) and never heard back. You know, that whole "we'll call you only if something's wrong" thing? My fantabulous GP's been on vacation but you know, I was completely unconcerned since I don't think there's anything wrong with me, apart from the obvious.
During my regular visit yesterday he went over the results with me.
Let's just stop a moment here and take a look at what I can remember of what he was testing me for..... Early menopause. (hello? just what I need). HIV. Pregnancy. Every blood cell count problem known to man. My thyroid levels. Some sort of rare thing to do with my joints or something that's really nasty and started with an S. The chest xray was for TB and da canca' (which means I can skip the September one this year, yay!) Nothing simple or MINOR, mind you, but all the huge big scary mo-fo nice-knowing-ya shit.
He says, "Well, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with you. You're really healthy. Every single test is in the normal range and your chest is clear."
(actually the report said "unremarkable" but I choose to believe there is nothing unremarkable about me or my chest thankyouverymuch so I let that one go.)
I said, "I KNOW, big guy, I KNOW I'm healthy. Do you think I might just be sweaty at night because I live in a big tin can in a rain forest?"
