Tag Archives: medicine

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Doctor!  Doctor!

This growing old shit is not for the faint of heart.  Even just Stayin’ Alive can become a full-time job.  I recently read a post from a young woman who complained that she had two doctors’ appointments in one day – and then she went for a workout at the gym.  It is possible, but not likely, that they were both with the same doctor.

Damned amateur!!  For those whose idea of excitement is perusing a long list of medical appointments and whines – Read on Mac Duff!

MONDAY – The worst
I took the wife to see her GP.  I insist on using that term.  Clinics and medical labs use the term ‘Family doctor.’  She has one.  The son and I have another.  They both treat “Families,” just not this family.  This visit was not medical.  It was administrative.
The polyp in her duodenum that was removed two years ago, has regrown.  We hadn’t heard anything from the specialist in Toronto who was going to operate, until we got a Sayonara Suckers email from him, telling us that he’s moving to Vancouver to practice.  Since it’s been precisely located and identified, the less-than-specialist in Cambridge feels that he can handle it.  We await an appointment.

Her dentist found a lesion on one side of the wife’s tongue.  A local Oral Surgeon snipped out enough for three stitches, and a biopsy.  It might have been Hyperkeratosis, a callus-like thickening of tissue.  (Insert shrewish housewife joke here.)  It was Dysplasia, a modification of cells that isn’t, but could become, cancer.
We were sent 75 miles to an Oro/Fascia/Maxillary Surgeon.  He felt that it extended too far back into the throat and ligament, and suggested an ENT.  The GP referred the wife to a local one who is probably the best in the Province.  We hadn’t got an appointment, so we asked the doctor to check.  The computer file showed that the ENT had declined, because his wait-list is 4 years.  He suggested 3 or 4 other names.  The GP wanted to know, if she couldn’t contact a local one, would we be willing to travel 75 miles east again, to Hamilton, or 75 miles West, to London.  As long as somebody does something, soon.

TUESDAY
We both had an appointment with our new Osteopath, because our last one decided to practice from her home, 20 miles away.

WEDNESDAY

We both had appointments with our Optometrist.  They already had to be delayed and rescheduled three weeks later.  The wife had her lenses with cataracts removed, and new, plastic lenses inserted about six months ago.  An emergency visit later showed that, as often happens, not all the organic matter was flushed out of the sacs, and it combined and grew like ivy, clouding her vision.  Only last week, she spent a half a day at the hospital, having it burned out with a laser.  Both her sight and mine are better than they were a year ago.

THURSDAY

Both the wife and daughter put their best foot forward, and I took them to their Podiatrist.

FRIDAY

It was the car’s turn for a service visit at the dealer.  The son dropped it off at 8:00 AM after work, and was Uber-ed home.  It was both his, and the driver’s, first Uber trip.  I was Uber-ed back to pick it up in the afternoon.  I have ridden in a few electric cars, although not a Tesla, yet.  Even including Toronto taxis, this was my first ride with a dash cam – front-facing, cabin and audio.

The week was so busy that neither of us had time for a workout at the gym.   😳

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Flim-Flam Phlegm

I was never a snot-nosed kid, but following my heart surgery, I have become a snot-nosed octogenarian.  It seems that I am constantly sniffing, snuffling, snorting, sneezing, wheezing, coughing, honking, barking and blowing.  It can’t have been caused by the physical operation.  I suspect that I have allergies to one or more of the new medications that I’m taking – irritating, but an acceptable tradeoff.

My Father contracted chronic bronchitis from serving on ships in the North Atlantic, during WW II.  Throughout his life, he suffered extended bouts when he would cough up and swallow mucus.  He probably, unconsciously, learned to self-medicate with Coca-Cola.  The acids help break up the long-molecule phlegm, and ease digestion.

He drank one Coke a day.  He was raised on the old 7 ounce bottle, which Coke first enlarged to 10 ounce, then changed to cans, and finally upsized to standard American 12 ounce – 355 ml here in semi-metricland.  I often saw him crack one, and pour a third of it down the sink.

Possibly because of an increasingly aged population who prefer and can handle only a smaller quantity, the 7-ounce serving is kinda, sorta making a comeback.  Stores are now offering “Minis,” which, here in Canada, are 222 ml, or 7.5 US ounce bottles and cans, .  Other than, “It’s a handy, portable size.” I can’t seem to discover exactly why that size was chosen.

Seven ounces isn’t very much, but in normal circumstances, no amount of soft drink could be considered ‘healthy.’  My Mother nagged convinced him to give up his addiction to Coke, and consume a small glass of milk, instead.  With the best of intentions, it was exactly the wrong thing to do.  Milk, in a stomach already full of phlegm, caused even greater digestive distress.  When we discovered what she’d done, the wife explained the benefits to Mom, and got Dad back on his “medicine.”

Remembering that, now that my nose seems to be constantly running, and my sinuses forever draining, I often swap out my afternoon chocolate milk, for a 6 ounce juice-glass of Pepsi – diluted with an ice cube, a splash of filtered water, and a dash of Morello Cherry syrup.  For more life hacks, follow me here – mostly to ensure that I don’t wander off and get lost.

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Medical Humor

I’m not too keen on taking pills.  When my doctor prescribed some medication for high blood pressure, I asked if there were any side-effects.
He said, “Yes, longevity.”

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I’m pretty sure my body is not a temple.  It’s a haunted house.  It’s slowly falling apart.  It makes strange noises, and it’s inhabited by the spirit of an old guy who’s always mad at something.

My wife says I’m unsophisticated and uncultured so; to prove her wrong, guess where I’m taking her.
Hint: It starts with B, and rhymes with “wallet.”

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In one of my blog posts, my computer’s Auto-Correct changed ‘Joseph of Arimathea’ into “Joseph of Aroma Therapy!”

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My daughter volunteered as an assistant monitor for the Great-grandson’s first swimming trip.  When her child’s towel went missing, an irate mother demanded, “What kind of juvenile delinquents are in class with my child?”
The daughter replied, “I’m sure it was taken accidently.  What did it look like?”
“It’s white,” said the parent, “and it says Holiday Inn on it.”

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Dieter, and his grandfather Peter, were sitting on the side of a mountain in Bavaria.  Grampa Peter said, look down there at our village.  I helped build most of those houses, but do they call me Peter the house- builder?  NO!  Look at the church.  I climbed up and finished the spire, but do they call me Peter the church-builder?  NO!  See the stone wall where the road runs near the river.  I dug out and mortared most of those stones myself.  Do they call me Peter the wall-builder?  NO!  ….but I fuck one pig!!?

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I just had another colonoscopy.  I asked the doctor to write me a note for my wife, stating that my head wasn’t up there.

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WebMD is updating its server because of a virus.  Well, they think it was a virus, but it could also be malaria, kidney failure, a heart murmur, gallstones, or even appendicitis.

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J U X T A P O S I T I ON, Too

Once upon a time, I published a post about

JUXTAPOSITION

a word which has come to mean the vivid, visual disorientation of viewing two, very different things, beside, or near each other.  The examples I gave, were a tiara on a pig, and a Rembrandt, hanging in a Port-A-Potty.  I was recently exposed to a Canadian case in point.

I had to take the wife to an Oral Surgery and Maxillofacial Clinic, 75 miles away, in Canada’s dark, dirty, dingy, rough and none-too-ready steel city.  When we finally arrived, after navigating the bewildering downtown maze of one-way streets, I was suitably impressed with the magnificent little edifice.

It was relatively brand-new – perhaps 5 years old.  It was clean, and neat, with swaths of well-polished glass, shiny stainless steel trim, and Carrera marble.  You’ll have to take my word for it, because I could not locate any online external images of the place.  It’s almost as if they are ashamed of their neighborhood, and don’t want to scare off any potential customers.

I can’t say that it’s in a ‘Bad Neighborhood.’  It’s about normal for this place.  The street in front looks feels like it’s maintained by the Ukrainian Paving Company.  Cheek by jowl with, and across the street from it, are an ‘Adult Theater’, tattoo parlor, Payday Loan Company, cannabis dispensary, Moe’s Cavern dive bar, and Bob’s Pizza (Hiring delivery drivers.)

I stayed at a motel in a neighborhood like this, north of Detroit, and it had an armed security guard, but this is Canada, where guns are banned – except for criminals – and muggers have to say please, thank you, and sorry.

Ten years from now – or twenty – gentrification will have set in, and it will be surrounded by doctors’ offices, and spas, and tony salons, but right now, it sticks out like the only unsore thumb.

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(continue last year’s anti-Festival Of Conspicuous Consumption Christmas rant here)

Canada’s celebration of Yuletide commercial excess continues to match, and even exceed, the USA.  Local radio stations and store Muzak play-lists switched to All Christmas All The Time back at Thanksgiving – but that’s CANADIAN Thanksgiving, in late October.

I was recently in a store where I heard Driving Home For Christmas, and thought, “It’s your own damned fault.  If you hadn’t got yourself on a terrorist watch, and No-Fly list, you wouldn’t have to drive.”

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Second Millennium

THIS IS MY 2000TH POST

Big deal, I know a couple of bloggers who have reached 10,000.  I console myself by claiming that they are the WordPress equivalent of Post It notes, 50/75 word posts about themes and memes and blog prompts.  I like to think that mine have a little more body and content.

I recently passed my 13th WordPress anniversary – almost thirteen years of dutiful, self-imposed, three-per-week, Monday/Wednesday/ Friday blogposts.  Like many other long-term bloggers, I seem to have just run out of things to write about.  Even when I do come up with a new blog theme, I don’t seem to have the strength, the stamina, the concentration, the creativity, or the dedication to get it composed and posted on time.  That’s why so many “Monday” A To Z Challenges slid to Wednesday – I needed two extra days to get them finished.

It may be partly because of my continued aging – it may be partly the result of major surgery – it may be partly because of ingesting multitudinous medications (The pharmacy sent me a HAPPY BIRTHDAY Card.), but as Uncle Albert says, “I’m So Easy Called Away.”

I may have to do what several other long-term bloggers have done.  I may have to reduce – but not eliminate, for now – the number of my posts.  What the CBers used to call Sani-Bagging – reading other people’s posts and picking up their garbage, without spreading any much of my own.

So far, I seem to be able to keep up with Fibbing Fridays.  Sometimes a little late, but I publish A To Z Challenges.  After over ten years of providing jokes and humor, I’m having problems finding more that suits three-digit IQs.  Adult humor doesn’t need to have sex in it.  My output may diminish somewhat, but please keep stopping by.

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Blog Prompt: Do You Have Any Collections?

OH BROTHER, DO I EVER!!

This getting old shit is not for the faint of heart.  I have often whined said that I had to retire, just to have the time to drive the wife and I to all our medical appointments.  With all the medical advancements, she and I are working on accumulating a complete set of medical practitioners to keep us alive and mostly pain-free, if not exactly happy and healthy.

She and I have different GP’s, because our family doctor fired her because she was too needy, and the MD who took over the practice would not accept her back.  She and I have a common Chiropractor, and an Osteopath..  She and the daughter share the same Podiatrist.  She and I have the same dentist, but I have to drive the handicapped daughter across town, because our clinic will not deal with Government-funded clients.

I am on the client list of an Orthopedic surgeon, who installed my bionic shoulder, after I fell off my motorcycle.  He also replaced both the wife’s knees.  I have a thoracic surgeon who is monitoring my navel hernia.  I have a Urologist who monitors and prescribes for my swollen prostate.  The wife has a Nephrologist (kidney specialist) who monitors her under-functioning kidneys.  She must have lit a fire under the wife’s laissez-faire GP.  Suddenly, she was referred to the Stroke Detection and Prevention Clinic, a vascular clinic, and she got an echocardiogram at the same Cardiac clinic, but a month earlier than I was seen for my angina.  To chase ongoing, mild anemia, she was also referred to a Hematology clinic.

I’m still on the books, but I doubt that I will ever again see the neurologist who diagnosed my eye problem, some years ago.  He pulled a Bill Cosby, and is currently on trial for molesting 50+ young females.  He referred me to an Ocular surgeon at the eye hospital in London, Ontario, who did a retina tack.  Soon after, a local Ophthalmologist replaced my left lens.  Later, she replaced both the wife’s lenses, and recently, my right one.  The wife and daughter and I all attend the same Optometrist.  The wife still (occasionally) wears her hearing aids, but I gave mine up.  The better to ignore you with, my dear.

The wife used to visit a Physiatrist – a pain-management specialist – but he says he’s done all he can.  A local Gastroenterologist diagnosed the wife’s duodenal polyp, and referred her to another GI guy in Toronto to remove it endoscopically.  He passed the task off to yet another, young, female endo-surgeon at a different hospital.  Along the way, we’ve made the acquaintance of a smattering of anesthetists.

Twice, the wife has spent overnight at a sleep-study clinic for her apnea, so that the Government would fund a CPAP machine.  We have a firm which provides, maintains, and electronically monitors it, notifying her doctor if any serious change is noted.  After the wife’s fall, a medical supply firm came to the house and installed a bed-rail, and get-up arms on the toilet.  I installed a handicap rail on the adjacent wall.

Damn!  Ignoring the psychiatric section – perhaps not much longer – there are not many medical fields that we don’t cover.  Still, it beats the alternative.  Excelsior!  😀

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Comic Con

We were recently the recipients of The Grandparent Scam.  The son’s skepticism and quick mind shut it down in about 30 seconds.

Only the night before, I had read an online rant about it.  The author was amazed, and aghast, that people still fell for it.  The general public has been told about it, again, and again…. And AGAIN…. And AGAIN!! – what it is, how it works, don’t fall for it.  The entire World should be aware, yet every week, another gullible senior pays a phony ransom in iTunes gift cards.  However – over at our place….

The son had come home from his midnight shift, and was enjoying a snack and reading on his tablet when the phone rang at 11:00 o’clock.
Hello.
Grandpa?
Had I answered, this is where I might have already become suspicious.  The grandson never calls me Grandpa.  I am always Poppa.  It took the son a few more seconds.
No, this is Uncle Martin.  And then…  Randy??
I didn’t know whether you’d recognize my voice or not.  I’m in real trouble.  A guy punched me in the face and broke my nose.  Can I speak to Grandpa??
The son’s cynicism and suspicion began to kick in.  He’d caught the Grandpa vs. Poppa, and the caller didn’t Sound like he had a broken nose, and a dozen other little things.  He said….
What do you expect him to do – drive you to the hospital??
Uh… no, I guess not.  And hung up.
The son said, you could almost hear the prepared script go off the rails, and crash in flames into the ravine.  He wanted to let the scammer spin his tale of woe, to see where it led.  It could have been interesting and amusing.

This scam works best when the supposed victim is a vulnerable teen high-schooler.  We only have one  grandson.  He is 30.  He has a wife, a son, a car, and a job.  He’s far too intelligent and cautious to have someone randomly punch him.  At 11 AM, he should be halfway through his shift at his employer’s plant.
Been injured on the job?  Call your boss!
Been assaulted??  Call the cops!
Need transportation??  1. Call your boss. 2. Call an ambulance. 3. Call a cab or Uber. 4. If you can call your Grandpa, you don’t seem badly injured – drive yourself!

This particular con also works best, down in the Excited States, where a visit to a hospital can cost an arm and a leg, if you’ve broken an arm or leg.  Up here in Socialized Medicine’s Great White North, you might not even lose a day’s pay.  This grift is aimed at a far more credulous and suitable victim pool than us.  C’mon people – stop and think.  People lie, especially where money is involved.  👿

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’24 A To Z Challenge – D

The results of my angina blood test are back.  Apparently I’m 70% gravy.

OH LARD, I’M COMIN’

I thought that I had found the perfect D-word for my A to Z challenge.

DESUETUDE

I mean…. de-SUET-ude??!  Get the grease out of the old arteries??!

GET THE LARD OUT!

The US dictionary insists that parochial Americans should pronounce it, diss-wit- ood.  Of course, being a linguistic genius, and knowing its history and construction, I know that it should be pronounced more like, deh-soo-et (or swet)-ood.  Perhaps I’m not the genius I thought I was.  It has nothing to do with cleaning out clogged arteries.  The actual meaning is, the state of being no longer used or practiced – disuse, inactivity.

I have a whole list of things that will soon join that description.  No longer will I be flitting around the house, or dashing upstairs and down, or using the aisles at Costco like my private walking trails.  The wife and daughter are both semi-handicapped.  The wife shops with a cane, and the daughter with a forearm crutch.  I can do anything that I used to – I just have to do it much slower, and plod along at their pace now.

French fries are now verboten.  I turned in my New York Fries loyalty card to my doctor, and she replaced it with a complementary membership to Salads-R-Us.  My bitching and whining about it have not been discontinued, though.  Do tacos or burritos contain cholesterol??   😮   D for DAMN!!

 

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I (Heart) Modern Medicine

Congratulate me, everyone.  I am the proud papa of a bouncing baby angina.

Increasingly, over the past month, I have noticed that, following any small amount of vigorous exercise, I got a feeling of constriction in my chest, and a strong ache, right up into my throat, causing a gag reflex a couple of times.  My Osteopath felt it might be cramping muscles, or jammed ribs, from poor posture while I read in my easy chair, but she (strongly) suggested that I contact my doctor.

It was well that she did.  I went home and called late in the afternoon.  As soon as I spoke the two magic words – Chest Pains – Shit Happened!  I got an appointment at 11 AM the next morning.  When I described my symptoms, she told me that I have a case of Angina Pectoris.

Since angina is caused by a clogged artery, she immediately prescribed a cholesterol medication to be added to my list.  She wanted blood and urine tests.  I wanted to use a lab near my house, but she insisted on a branch in her medical building before I even left.  On my way out, her assistant told me that she’d booked me for a bone-density test at the hospital.  The doctor referred me to the Cardiology Associates there, also.

The next day, my Ophthalmologist called, and wanted me to come to her office to measure my eye for the new lens that she’s going to insert.  She knew this when I was there a month ago.  Why didn’t she do that then??!  It entailed a 20-minute drive across town, for a 5-minute procedure, and then a 20-minute drive home.  I’m scheduled for surgery at 7 AM, April 30th, so wish me luck tomorrow.  To prepare, I received three different eye-drop medications – one to begin two days before the operation and the others to continue a week – and 4 weeks – after.

MD says that angina is medically considered “Normal, Acute, or Emergency.”  I’ve gone from normal, to acute.  She said that, as acute, even with her referral, it could take two – three – even four months to be seen.  She said that, if I have a bad attack, to immediately go to Emergency.  It’s caused by over-exertion.  I have found that sitting and taking deep breaths makes it disappear.  I don’t want to drive, even if the son didn’t have the car at work, and it would be gone by the time I arrived.

She told me, to shortcut the wait, to go to Emergency at 6:00/6:30 AM, tell the triage nurse that I’d had an attack, that my doctor wants me to be given a stress test and evaluated.  The new crew comes on-duty at 7.  Take a friend, a couple of books, and some food and drink.  The wait could be ten or twelve hours – but I’ll be seen and assessed that day.

Despite the high cost of living, it remains a popular option.  Medically, I’ve become – and will remain – Busy, Busy, Busy!
Busy
Stayin’ Alive!
Stayin’ Alive!

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Because of the surgery, this week’s Wednesday post may be on Thursday.  😀

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Fibbing Friday Letters

Last week, the questions were borrowed from a newsletter. When Pennsitivity101 read them, she thought there could be a lot of fun answers. Like to add yours?

1. What is Allium Sepa (Cepa)?

It is concentrated green-onion juice that is used to make the cough medicine, Cepacol.

2. What is Arran Pilot?

He (or she) is the person who guides the tourist boat from Glasgow, out to the island, for knitting tours.

3. What is a love apple?

That was what I grew, before I got fat pleasingly plump, and developed full love handles.
Are you happy to see me, or is that just a large lunch??

4. To what genus do cabbages, broccoli and cauliflowers belong?

Flatulus inducius.

5. Which vegetables were the first to be canned?

The ones caught smoking dope on the job.  To be honest, they weren’t doing much actual work anyway, and it all had to be double-checked.

6. Pepinex and Telegraph are varieties of what?

These are new dating apps, especially for those working in the communications field.

7. What is a White Lisbon?

It’s a hot new drink in Brazil, made with a liqueur distilled from fermented bougainvillea flowers.

8. What is Calabrese?

Calabrese is an American rock band that is based out of Phoenix, Arizona. The band consists of three faux brothers; bassist/vocalist Jimmy Calabrese, guitarist/vocalist Bobby Calabrese and drummer Davey Calabrese. Calabrese has been described as “Melodic, hook-laden, catchy, fun, Rock with a Punk attitude”.

9. What was described as a cabbage with college education?

Boris Johnson.  Donald Trump is a kale.  He claims to have a University degree, but he’s not as tightly wrapped.

10. What is a Pentland Javelin?

That’s what a sadly mistaken Geordie in an Edinburgh pub boastfully calls his alcohol-enfeebled manhood.  😮