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Monday, November 5, 2012

A Trip to the Doctor's Office

Last week I was pretty sure I either had an ear infection or possibly a brain tumor.  Normal week around here, I guess.  My ear was hurting every time I would talk on my cell phone and then I was all thinking about Sheryl Crow and her cell phone tumor, thinking I must have that, too.  Likely?  Probs.

Now I did not really think about how I do swim for like 3 hours every week and a couple weeks ago I couldn't get the water out of my ear, I find it is much better to just skip all the way to drastic and go with that.  

So after making a few dramatic comments to my hubby, "Please, I beg you, get married asap after I'm dead.  Do you know how to make kombucha?  I better teach you before it's too late.  What is my insurance policy anyway?  And p.s. the person you marry has to be all granola crunchy hippie anti-HFCS/PHO and whatever you do, make sure she is smart and can make everything at home."  Then I thought, "Or else I'll haunt you."  But I didn't say it.  Don't want to be over the top or anything.

Exactly.

So after he heard that, he forced me (by bothering me every second) to make an appointment at the doctor to see if I could get a brain scan or at least a check to see if I had an ear infection or fluid in my ears.  I was sooo bugged.  I mean, HELLO, just let me suffer and die in peace.  Don't drag the doctors into this mess.  Right!  Yeah, I know, they say you can do a lot with early detection but HEY, no, I would like to live in my own reality where I pretend nothing is happening.  Thanks A LOT, buddy.

So after searching for a nautropath/homeopatic doctor/etc., I found a chiropractor/naturopath/acupunturist who would take me in for a free consultation.  Dude, this lady was awesome.  Okay, picture everything you've ever seen in Hollywood for a person who is a naturopath.  She was it.  She was wearing tie-dyed socks with Birkinstock sandals.  Glory.  She had this flowing red hair, about 60 years old and was calm and pensive.  I explained my situation to her and she said I could come in and she would try to figure something out.

As a side note, I found it so very interesting that my insurance company does not cover ANY naturopaths/homeopathic doctors  in my entire state.  I called.  I was like, um...whyyy?  They dunno.  If anyone knows the role of pharmaceutical companies have with insurance companies, do explain, I'm wondering if that relationship has anything to do with it.  This world is nuts, my brothas from anotha mothas.

So anyway, I go, it's great.  She can answer my interview questions intelligently (for example: What do you believe is the proper role of a medical doctor?  Do you drink kombucha?  What is your opinion of the work that Dr. Henry Bieler did?  What is the role of proper nutrition in good health?  What is your opinion on antibiotics?  Probiotics?   Which of the following items do you avoid: preservatives, high fructose corn syrup, partially hydrogenated oils, GMOs, parabens, flouride..., Do you believe the consumption of cholesterol causes high cholesterol?  What is your belief about sugar?  There's more, but that's an idea for you.) and we agree on almost everything.  She tells me I'm all jacked up and I have no movement in the neck region on the side where I am having pain and it is likely that whatever fluid got in there is not able to properly drain.  Makes sense.  She adjusts my neck in a non-cracking way (she uses that hand-held thingy if you know about chiropractic stuff).  The next morning, viola, I feel better.  I was zero percent shocked.

But, alas, the next day is the day I'm to go to the regular insurance company approved doctor.  So, I go, lest my hubby have a fit the size of Mongolia.  Inner AND outer.  So I pack up again to see what she shall say.  She checks my ears, yes, there's fluid.  Solution?  Take a nasally injected steroid for a month to see if it works.  I'm sorry, what?  Okay, I know.  I understand that the ENT region is totally connected.  I know what steroids do.  But um?  That sounds a little off.

Okay, I humor her, I go down to the pharmacy.  I ask the cashier/receptionist at the pharmacy if I might please read the ingredients before purchasing the item and she graciously obliges.  I scan it and find polysorbate-80.  Problema.  I am SO not injecting polysorbate-80 into my nose for a month.  That is not gonna happen.  I ask her, not very hopefully, if the brand name also has that same ingredient (she had given me the generic).  They don't have it in stock and so she has to look it up in a database.  Eventually, while we are working at this, another woman from the center of the pharmacy decides it is time for her to get involved.

And involved she gets.

"What's going on over there?  What's the problem?"  She yells from across the working area.

The  nice and helpful younger woman explains there is an ingredient this customer wants to avoid and she is checking to see if it is also in the brand-name prescription.

This induces stomping for the middle-aged, grouchy woman from the middle of the pharmacy.  She huffs and puffs and bellows over to where we are standing.  She points her finger at me, her face full of scorn and anger, "What.  Are you allergic to it or something?  What are your symptoms?  Hm?  Or are you not really allergic?  You aren't, are you!  What happens to you when you take it?  Huh?"

Wowie.  You are intense, lady.  Apparently she accidentally sat on a giant and horned dinosaur and it is stuck in her nether regions because she is all freakin' out and the expression "panties in a bunch" does not even come remotely close to what I am witnessing at this juncture.

Puzzled, I am wondering what to say.  Technically, all humans should not be consuming this and really, if you want to get technical and philosophical, everyone is really allergic to it.  It has side-effects that include infertility among other things.  This is a bad preservative, dudes.  But I can tell that this lady is not going to hear any of it anyway, so I say, "Well, I may not really show any outward symptoms, but..."

And she cuts me off with the amount of snorting and puffing you would need to blow a snot-rocket fifteen feet across the room.  

"So you're not allergic!  What's the problem!"  Arms are flying at this point.  There is so much snorting and puffing going on I'm wondering if she is genetically related to a bull who has just been poked before a rodeo or something.  Nice lady is totally dumbfounded, standing silently and wondering what she ought to do, since, hello, we were doing just fine before the menopausal bull came over and sprayed snot all over every conceivable surface in a ten mile radius.  

I decide this is not the time to respond with anything that would induce any more snot-showers and instead say that I think I'd like to just set that aside for the moment and I'll just call the doctor and see if there might be anything else we could do instead.

Which translates: I'm going to the health store to ask the manager questions.

The manager asks me if anyone suggested hydrogen peroxide in my ear since it is antimicrobial and has drying properties.

Welcome to the world of MAKING SENSE.

Alas, another shock, I am feeling much better already.  

Note to self: next time - skip the doctor/pharmacy combo or remember to bring a rain poncho and an umbrella.

Peace, love and for crying out loud, somebody give that lady a Kleenex,
Ms. Daisy

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