Doctors, Doctors

Doctors are necessary. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to frequent their establishments other than to get the occasional prescription for my thyroid medication but that wasn’t to be. The gas logs are still unlit. I’m afraid to crank them up even though the cold weather could justify the cozy warmth. If my carbon monoxide detectors started shrieking, I just might die of heart failure.

October 28 found me at my doctor’s office for the last official consultation. My appointment was at 4:15. I got there early because I’d been told that, if he had a cancellation, I could be worked in. HA! Everyone who had ever gone to him had scheduled one last visit, too. The waiting room was full when I went in and stayed that way.

One by one, the patients were called back. The nurse opened the door and indicated I was to come back. The man sitting a couple of seats from me must’ve thought she’d motioned him in because he got up and made a beeline for the door. She yelled, “You can’t come back yet!” but he was already in the exam room by that time. So I sat. And waited.

A full hour after my appointment, I was called back. While I sat in the exam room, I had time to skim through an entire Womans Day—or maybe it was Family Circle. There were some interesting articles I read during the half hour it took for the doctor to walk in the door.

The nurse had checked my temperature and hugged me goodbye but she said the doctor was doing the blood pressure check himself. He took mine and informed me I wouldn’t die of hypertension. I don’t remember what it was but it was acceptable.

We discussed the state of my thyroid and he wanted to put me on .1 mg, up from .05. I protested that it would be doubling my current dose but he insisted on writing me a prescription. As I continued to argue with him, he made me a deal. He would write a prescription for .075 for 30 days and I was to have my TSH run after three weeks of taking it. If it wasn’t where it should be, I would get the prescription for .1 filled.

Then he wanted to know which doctor I’d picked for my next victim. I told him probably the new doc. He approved saying that he really seems to care which is very important. Later, I heard that my favorite nurse practitioner is coming back to town so I’ll be rethinking that decision.

We chatted for a little while, then he got me some more supplies for my B-12 injections. He examined my nose and said it was looking good. He’d been out of range when we’d tried to contact him the previous Monday. I told him I’d been rescued, anyway.

He said when he came to the area, he had planned to practice until he was an old man but things hadn’t worked out that way. I told him I wished he could because then I’d have my preferred doctor as long as I needed him since I’m older than he is. As he turned to go out the door, I said, “I’ll miss you.” He came back and hugged me.

I had thought, as late as my appointment was, I might be his last patient but the waiting room was still full. It was barely light outside as I made my way home.

Next day, I got my prescription filled. I’ve been taking the higher dose for eight days now and I do feel better. He wrote on the order to have my TSH checked after the 20th so I’ll have that done November 22.

This morning, I shot myself in the leg again. I’m on an every other week schedule. It’s not exactly Squeamishville though I have yet to enjoy the experience. I’m still taking some supplements and eating fava beans. The tremor isn’t completely gone but it’s not as bad as it once was.

Now that I have my hour back, I’ll get to the track and be able to walk in the sunshine. I’m looking forward to it.

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