No, not the Lily Tomlin, Charles Grodin movie from the early 80's. This version stars the one and only...me.
So, I went to my new doctor this week. Those of you who know me well, know that I have an acute "aversion" to doctors, but to the doctor I did go nonetheless. Basically, after my little "episode" in early October, I realized I needed to find a doctor I could trust and establish a rapport. So, I did, and I believe I have found a good one. My initial reaction anyway is, I like her a lot.
Here is what I learned from the visit: I have lost a total of (at least) 35 pounds since July 3rd, but perhaps the most perplexing discovery is that I have lost 2 1/2 inches in HEIGHT. (Not since July 3rd, mind you...not sure how long this has been going on.) I used to be 5' 4 1/2" and now I'm 5' 2". Now, when one is already short and fat, the very LAST thing one wants to do is...get SHORTER. Just sayin'.
The doctor also ran a series of blood tests, that involved drawing SEVEN...I counted them...vials of blood. Test results came in yesterday. No pre-diabetes, no anemia, thyroid is okay. In fact, everything looks good except my cholesterol, which is a little high, but she is going to give me three months to see if I can lower it a bit through my diet. She also took a gander at all the tests that were run at Jewish Hospital that memorable day, and they were all okie-dokie-fine as well.
So, the long and the short of it is, after - literally - thousands of dollars of tests, no one knows what caused my "episode." But at least I have the "peace of mind" of knowing that, for a woman of my advanced years and stature - overall - I am considered to be pretty healthy...a medical anomaly which I am sure positively BAFFLES the medical professionals when they get a look at me.
Of course, all this being said, I could get hit by a bus tomorrow...
Showing posts with label Doctor Visit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Doctor Visit. Show all posts
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Sunday, November 16, 2008
My Dermatologist Is A Republican
Okay, so maybe that is not the “sexiest” of titles, but it was the best I could come up with on this cold, dreary day in Cincinnati, Ohio. This is one of those stories I didn’t take the time to recount when it actually happened, but it has been “nagging” at me, so I’m thinking there’s no time like the present. Besides, once I get this out of the way, I can get back to “playing” with Bobby, so I’ve got some incentive here.
Anyway, back in August, I made a trip to the dermatologist to have a “questionable” mole removed. While I was there, I went ahead and made an appointment to go back to have several more moles, bumps, and skin tags removed from my face, neck, chest and back in mid-October.
At the time of the initial office visit, Dr. Greenwald gave me a prescription for a numbing cream that I was instructed to apply to all the moles I wanted removed one hour before the scheduled appointment. The prescription also included some rather…I thought…peculiar directions. You see, after applying the ointment, I was to wrap the areas in Saran Wrap. Oh, goody. Not only did I have to become a contortionist to spread on this unctuous salve, but then I was expected to wrap myself up like some ginormous mutant deli sandwich and ride through the streets of Cincinnati to boot.
Sigh…I hate my life.
But as luck would have it, Dr. Greenwald graciously informed me that I could come in an hour before the scheduled surgery, bring all the stuff with me, and one of her staff would assist me. So, come the day of the appointment, I gathered up the goo and the wrap and trundled off to the doctor.
True to her word, I sat in the waiting room for no more than five minutes before a very nice woman summoned me back to one of the exam rooms. Her name was Debbie, and she chatted away as she very solicitously applied dollops of the numbing cream to various parts of my body with an extra long Q-tip. Every now and then, she would pause and take a step back and look at me. This maneuver prompted me to comment that she reminded me of an artist admiring her handiwork, and I was like this big ol’ three dimensional canvass.
Talk about your abstract art. Luckily, I won’t be hanging in a gallery near you anytime soon, or like…ever.
After Debbie finished dabbing on the "Spackle," she dutifully applied the Saran Wrap and then left to attend to other patients. So, there I sat, alone in the exam room with only my thoughts to keep me company. It is times such as these that one’s rambling thoughts are given to much speculation. I mean, it is 2008 after all. We’re supposed to be one of the most medically advanced countries in the world, and this is the best we can come up with as a means to deaden the pain of a minor surgical procedure? I’m thinking we can do better.
Anyway, eventually Debbie came back to interrupt my pensive ruminations and escort me to the exam room where the surgery would be performed. By this time, I was growing weary with all the waiting and was ready to get this show on the road, so I was relieved when Dr. Greenwald entered the room a few minutes later.
Just like the last time, she was friendly and chatty. Like I said before, I think she tries to carry on a conversation to keep the patient’s mind off what is being done to them. The last time, she numbed both areas with a needle, but since I had so many “blemishes” to be removed this visit, she opted to go with “ye old” freezing method. She had a canister of liquid nitrogen with which she proceeded to “spray” me.
Forget the canvass I mentioned earlier, now I was feeling rather more like the side of a house being spray painted. And I gotta tell ya…the numbing cream…didn’t numb so much. It did okay, I guess, to the areas where it had been applied. But the “spray” had a tendency to wander beyond the intended area, and it stung like heck...like hundreds of little bee stings nailing you at the same time. About two minutes into this process, I was wishing I had just left well enough alone.
But you know, as "they" say: in for a penny in for a pound. I sucked it up…determined to persevere. About this time, Dr. Greenwald had moved around to my back, and she was working on a rather large mole that would have to be burned off rather than frozen. So, as she sticks me with the needle, she asks me if I had watched the “debate” the previous evening. (She was referring to the final debate between Obama and McCain.)
Now, as I have mentioned before, I hate politics. Let me say that again lest you do not fully comprehend the intensity of my sentiment. I HATE POLITICS! I seldom discuss them with people who share my political beliefs…let alone with virtual strangers. No good can come of it, I tell ya. And I almost never, ever watch debates. I hate those, too.
So, when Dr. Greenwald asked me if I had watched the debate, I told her, “No.” I went on to explain that I hate debates, that I already knew who I was voting for, therefore, I thought I would spare myself the agony of watching. Then, out of the blue, Dr. Greenwald offered this totally unsolicited declaration, “Well, I certainly hope you’re not voting for Obama.”
Awkward silence on my part.
Then Dr. Greenwald added, “I really think he will ruin our country if he’s elected president.”
Okay, this is when a part of me wanted to come back with a well thought out, concise yet totally pertinent and snappy one-liner as to the present state of our country that has been pretty much laid to waist by the present REPUBLICAN administration, but cooler heads prevailed. Instead, I opted to employ a simple stratagem that has served me well my whole life and has gotten me through so many uncomfortable situations…humor.
As the smell of burning flesh…my burning flesh…permeated the exam room, I just chuckled and said, “Hey, you’re the one with the blow torch…I’ll vote for whoever you want me to.”
And that was that…potential ugly situation avoided. Perhaps the next time I have to schedule a visit with the good doctor, she will choose a more "neutral" topic to discuss. You know, something like... religion.
Anyway, back in August, I made a trip to the dermatologist to have a “questionable” mole removed. While I was there, I went ahead and made an appointment to go back to have several more moles, bumps, and skin tags removed from my face, neck, chest and back in mid-October.
At the time of the initial office visit, Dr. Greenwald gave me a prescription for a numbing cream that I was instructed to apply to all the moles I wanted removed one hour before the scheduled appointment. The prescription also included some rather…I thought…peculiar directions. You see, after applying the ointment, I was to wrap the areas in Saran Wrap. Oh, goody. Not only did I have to become a contortionist to spread on this unctuous salve, but then I was expected to wrap myself up like some ginormous mutant deli sandwich and ride through the streets of Cincinnati to boot.
Sigh…I hate my life.
But as luck would have it, Dr. Greenwald graciously informed me that I could come in an hour before the scheduled surgery, bring all the stuff with me, and one of her staff would assist me. So, come the day of the appointment, I gathered up the goo and the wrap and trundled off to the doctor.
True to her word, I sat in the waiting room for no more than five minutes before a very nice woman summoned me back to one of the exam rooms. Her name was Debbie, and she chatted away as she very solicitously applied dollops of the numbing cream to various parts of my body with an extra long Q-tip. Every now and then, she would pause and take a step back and look at me. This maneuver prompted me to comment that she reminded me of an artist admiring her handiwork, and I was like this big ol’ three dimensional canvass.
Talk about your abstract art. Luckily, I won’t be hanging in a gallery near you anytime soon, or like…ever.
After Debbie finished dabbing on the "Spackle," she dutifully applied the Saran Wrap and then left to attend to other patients. So, there I sat, alone in the exam room with only my thoughts to keep me company. It is times such as these that one’s rambling thoughts are given to much speculation. I mean, it is 2008 after all. We’re supposed to be one of the most medically advanced countries in the world, and this is the best we can come up with as a means to deaden the pain of a minor surgical procedure? I’m thinking we can do better.
Anyway, eventually Debbie came back to interrupt my pensive ruminations and escort me to the exam room where the surgery would be performed. By this time, I was growing weary with all the waiting and was ready to get this show on the road, so I was relieved when Dr. Greenwald entered the room a few minutes later.
Just like the last time, she was friendly and chatty. Like I said before, I think she tries to carry on a conversation to keep the patient’s mind off what is being done to them. The last time, she numbed both areas with a needle, but since I had so many “blemishes” to be removed this visit, she opted to go with “ye old” freezing method. She had a canister of liquid nitrogen with which she proceeded to “spray” me.
Forget the canvass I mentioned earlier, now I was feeling rather more like the side of a house being spray painted. And I gotta tell ya…the numbing cream…didn’t numb so much. It did okay, I guess, to the areas where it had been applied. But the “spray” had a tendency to wander beyond the intended area, and it stung like heck...like hundreds of little bee stings nailing you at the same time. About two minutes into this process, I was wishing I had just left well enough alone.
But you know, as "they" say: in for a penny in for a pound. I sucked it up…determined to persevere. About this time, Dr. Greenwald had moved around to my back, and she was working on a rather large mole that would have to be burned off rather than frozen. So, as she sticks me with the needle, she asks me if I had watched the “debate” the previous evening. (She was referring to the final debate between Obama and McCain.)
Now, as I have mentioned before, I hate politics. Let me say that again lest you do not fully comprehend the intensity of my sentiment. I HATE POLITICS! I seldom discuss them with people who share my political beliefs…let alone with virtual strangers. No good can come of it, I tell ya. And I almost never, ever watch debates. I hate those, too.
So, when Dr. Greenwald asked me if I had watched the debate, I told her, “No.” I went on to explain that I hate debates, that I already knew who I was voting for, therefore, I thought I would spare myself the agony of watching. Then, out of the blue, Dr. Greenwald offered this totally unsolicited declaration, “Well, I certainly hope you’re not voting for Obama.”
Awkward silence on my part.
Then Dr. Greenwald added, “I really think he will ruin our country if he’s elected president.”
Okay, this is when a part of me wanted to come back with a well thought out, concise yet totally pertinent and snappy one-liner as to the present state of our country that has been pretty much laid to waist by the present REPUBLICAN administration, but cooler heads prevailed. Instead, I opted to employ a simple stratagem that has served me well my whole life and has gotten me through so many uncomfortable situations…humor.
As the smell of burning flesh…my burning flesh…permeated the exam room, I just chuckled and said, “Hey, you’re the one with the blow torch…I’ll vote for whoever you want me to.”
And that was that…potential ugly situation avoided. Perhaps the next time I have to schedule a visit with the good doctor, she will choose a more "neutral" topic to discuss. You know, something like... religion.
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