Friday, May 3, 2013

I Went to the Doctor and I didn't like it one bit.

I went to the doctor’s office this week. I don’t like seeing the doctor, nor do I enjoy seeing any of his nurse practitioners. Do not misunderstand; they are all lovely people. They are kind and caring and professional.

I do not like what happens to me when I go to see medical professionals. The first thing that happens is my bank account drops. I appreciate the fact that the doctor and nurses deserve to be paid for their excellent services, but I still hate to see my checking account balance drop.

Most every time I visit with my doctor, I feel healthy. I walk into the office with a smile on my face and a spring in my step. Then the doctor finishes his exam and begins to list the number of things wrong with me. A long, terrible, horrible list. He tries to soften the blow by saying, “But other than that, you are in perfect health.”

On a few occasions I have visited the doctor, only to be set upon by a gang of thugs all dressed in the same blue gang colors, with matching masks over their faces. In each instance I have found myself losing consciousness, and soon after waking, realized I have been knifed, and parts of my body have been removed.

Then this gang has the audacity to bill me for it. There goes my checkbook balance, again.

This most recent visit to my doctor’s office was to see a nurse practitioner. The idea of a nurse “practicing” on me is quite unsettling.

As we visited, she kept writing scripts, or prescriptions, for medicine for old people. This is infuriating, since I have maintained being 25 years old for quite some time. Yet she kept writing script after script for this and that.

She went over my blood work and noticed my vitamin D level was low. She wrote a script. I was hoping it was for a 4 week stay at a Carribean beachside resort, but no, it was for prescription strength vitamin D.

After 15 minutes of her scribbling out scripts for medications, she looked at me and said, “Are you dehydrated?”

I slumped in my chair, thinking to myself, “No beach vacation, and now she wants to know if I am dehydrated. I didn’t know water came in prescription strength.”

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