Thursday, June 5, 2008

This is how old-fashioned I am.

I have one of those diseases that you only hear about in 19th century novels, such as:

rheumatism, gout, dropsy,
tonsillitis, consumption, pleurisy,
dyspepsia, scarlet fever, chilblains,
biliousness, croup, dipsomania,
apoplexy, the pox, lumbago,
bubonic plague, bloody flukes, yellow jack, gleet, calenture, scurvy, wens, whooping cough, marthambles, and leprosy.



OK, I'm not a leper, and it's not scurvy, either.

I have acute tonsillitis. Weird, right?

A couple of days ago I woke up in the middle of the night with a killer sore throat. Yesterday I went to the clinic at Walgreen's. I thought it might be strep. I wanted a diagnosis and some drugs as soon as possible.

"But Poppy," I hear you thinking. "Why didn't you go to the doctor?" Well, I didn't want to fuss. And to be honest, I can't even remember my doctor's name.

But I do sort of have a doctor, I guess. I know where his office is, and if I went to his building, I could figure it out. But I was way too sick to go wandering around a medical building trying to figure out which doctor's name sounded familiar so I could call him and make an appointment.

And even if I did know his name, with my symptoms (very sudden onset, swollen lymph nodes) they'd want to test for strep. I'd have to go in. And get tested. And probably end up at Walgreen's anyway.

Yes, I realize that I am LAME. This is just pathetic. All we hear about these days is America's healthcare crisis, and all the millions of uninsured people in this country, and here I am spoiled rotten with all kinds of insurance and all the access to Botox and Retin-A that any one woman could possibly be said to need--but I can't be bothered to go to the doctor.

But guess what? The clinic at Walgreen's TOTALLY ROCKS. The nurse practitioner was really nice. The clinic bills directly to insurance. And when you get your prescription for amazingly powerful antibiotics, the pharmacy is right there. It's one stop shopping. And hey, Walgreen's has much better magazines than a doctor's waiting room.

So that was actually pretty cool.

But. It occurs to me that I am not getting any younger, and it's a little ridiculous to take my kids to their pediatrician, dentist, and orthodontist appointments while the only doctor's name I can remember is my ob/gyn, and his main office is 15 miles away.

I mean, an annual pap smear can not be considered regular medical care. Also, putting your fingers in your ears and saying "la la la la I can't heeeeeaaaaarrrrrr you!" is not a mature response to conversations where the word "cholesterol" and "longevity" get bandied about.

And now that I've outed myself to the internet, I feel like such a loser. I mean, there are millions of bloggers with all kinds of medical problems ... I bet they go to the doctor.

I mean, even if I'm not on any medication and even if my blood pressure is 107/70 ... I should probably have a real doctor, and not just an ob/gyn.

Plus I like my ob/gyn, but he has a relentlessly dirty mind.

I mean, if I even bothered to call him and tell him that I had a really bad sore throat, he'd ask me what I'd been doing to get it. And then he'd be disappointed to hear my answer, which would be either "hanging around my kids' school" or "exposing myself to the falling damps" depending on how 19th-century I was feeling.

Which these days, is a lot. Let me tell you--I had the greatest time putting that list together.

But anyway, you'll have to pardon me, internet; I'm indisposed.

And I'm going to make a few phone calls and find myself A DOCTOR.

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