A Foot into

Posted September 28, 2014 @ 1:57am | by S. Cutshall

...Western Medicine.


After plunging into all the medical shinola of late, I finally buckled and obeyed The Wife (always a wise choice for any man but especially so when that man's wife has the capability to kill him while he sleeps, and in a way that would baffle many medical examiners... after all, she is an RN with 27 years in the trenches) and have begun the battery of medical testing.


So far-


Eyes, Check (the Doc said my Farsightedness is 20/20 while my Near Sightedness has dropped significantly since 2011, my last exam... his final take, "it ain't yer eyes bro." He also stated I had the far vision of a 15 to 20 year old. Yay, but just obviously not the fucking balance of one. On the balance front these days, I am more like a toddler).

**Note... my eye prescription changed enough that the Doc recommended new lenses for my glasses. Me being me, a complete & total eyeglass frame junkie fashion-whore, I was very pleased as I marched Amy down the exam hallway toward the area with the brand spankin' new frames. When she sort of protested with, "Scott, we just got you custom frames two years ago from that little boutique company that hand makes them down in San Francisco. Remember?", I assured her I did while studying some really sweet new frames and adding gravely, "Yeah, but these frames will look great on me when I am in my casket... sometime between now and the end of 2014."

She had no argument in her. I won. New glasses en route within two weeks.


Later that day, off to the regular GP for referrals for as much shit as my loving wife could conjure up to have me poked, prodded and scanned. Must say, having a real genuine honest to Satan Registered Nurse in your corner when seeing your general practitioner adds some serious gravity to the opposite--not having one. Anything I said to this poor overworked massively well paid bastard, well he'd look at Amy and then she'd either nod her head or add more to it and he would faithfully write it down on his "Orders" pad. I should have demanded money, a Karma tuneup and a coupla three infant kidneys to auction off on eBay India while I was there.

An hour and a half later, I walked out of his office with wife and daughter in tow and straight down the Kaiser Permanente corporate health mega-plex to the Lab for blood draws.
I can appreciate age. I can even appreciate turning 51 a couple days back. But I sure don't appreciate how age can make you, or me at least, into a vulnerable pussy. I never, as in Never Ever, have had an or any issue with having my blood removed from me. Elementary school to a few years ago (when OHSU, a big deal hospital/research/teaching facility here in Portland, Oregon -for you non Portland/Oregon/West Coast/United States folks- wanted to poke me repeatedly to learn the secret to my success after all the press brouhaha had come my way following the Bicycling Magazine piece) never have I had any adverse reaction to needles going into my flesh. Apparently that has changed.
Almost fucking face planted straight down onto KP's spic & span lab floor. Didn't in the end because Amy, as always reading/re-reading me and my every move, saw my skin tone upon being called into the lab and sent Chloe in after me a few seconds later. And good thing, as I sat there trying to figure out why my heart was nearing full vector explosion in my chest while the room started to spin like the intro to Hitchcock's Vertigo, Chloe magically appeared beside me smiling and before I could ask her to, holding my sweaty pallid hand.

After being sucked dry, not of blood but in essence of all dignity and, according to the facial expressions of other dude patients watching me exit the lab, testicles, I got out of there speedy quick like.

So that's that for now... awaiting all manner of lab results-
proteins
minerals
thyroid
electrolytes
red and white blood cell counts
kidney and liver and heart enzymes

... and, joy fucking joy, a call from their Imaging Dept to go get a CT Scan in the next couple days.

Well, lemons to lemonade, at least I got some cool new eyeglass frames out of it.

Later-

-Scott 

 
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