Originally Posted Tuesday, March 11, 2014
It went just as I predicted, except for Daylight Savings Time. I woke at seven-thirty needing to be at the dee arrs office at eight. I poured a cup of coffee to go and headed for the door. There, I filled out forms for ten minutes then sat for half an hour. How do they get forty minutes behind first thing in the morning you wonder? What will the rest of the day look like? Eventually I got called back to the observation room where I filled out another set of forms and got measured--height and weight--while the "assistant" (surely she wasn't a qualified nurse) explained to me how to put on the gown. "The opening goes in the back," she said helpfully. Then I was taken for an X-Ray by a woman who told me she was my age and then launched into a recounting of seeing a Bee Gees concert that was fabulous. I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. She took this as a sort of personal affront, I think, and maybe it was. I didn't want to be the same age as she. I didn't want to rely on "these people" for anything. It is horrible.
After the X-Rays, she took me back to the observation room and told me "God Bless," or something equally ideological. It was early. I wasn't myself. I was silent.
In a little while, an Asian man came in. I knew he wasn't the dee arr I had an appointment with, and surely, he wasn't. He was a P.A. He came to explain my X-Rays. Well--X-Ray, for he only showed one. He didn't seem to have an especial interest in it as he pointed out that I had some arthritis in my knee. He had me lie down and he moved my leg until it hurt and then pushed on it in several places until it hurt. He told me that I might have a tear in the meniscus, but they would need to do an MRI to determine that. I simply said, "O.K." to that and he left the room telling me to get dressed and giving me directions to the outer world. Someone would call me to schedule the MRI. Later that day, someone did. I could come Friday night, I was told, early or late. My appointment with the dee arr was two weeks distant.
I never even saw an orthopod of any sort.
But I bet you dollars to donuts that they billed me for one. Or my insurance, I should say. I can't wait to see what that little fiasco cost. They didn't need the X-Ray to tell me I had arthritis (which is not my problem anyway). Anyone my age has arthritis in his knee. It was the ripoff, the scam. They needn't have seen me at all (they being anyone who was not a dee arr) except for the money. I could have gone straight to the MRI.
Whatever. Ask any Republican. We have the best healthcare system in the world. And they are probably right. It is quite a "system." As for healthcare, though. . . .
The fellow who lives across the street from me is a dee arr. He drives a $150,000 automobile. I want to bump it.
All I really want is to be able to run. I will have to wait to see how that pans out.
It is seven o'clock in the morning and black as night. Daylight Savings Time fucks with me in the wrong way. I woke up this morning at four-thirty which would be three-thirty, right? Why? Tossed around in bed until five-thirty (four-thirty real time). I haven't had any trouble sleeping for months. I don't understand the effect. But surely you are feeling it, too.
I've had a pot of coffee, and now, I think, I'll go back to bed. The sun should rise sometime soon, and I will dream through the morning for awhile. And tonight I will take a sleep aid to counter our time management system. It is the best in the world.
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