At Home

Ron reminded me of a few more kitten names after I did my video blog. "Varmadillo" (only in Texas) and "Heartworm".   She's so cute she just gets into my heart like a worm, ergo: Heartworm.  Ron likes to sing "Home with the Varmadillo!" during the chorus of Jerry Jeff Walker's "London Homesick Blues".  As you listen, remember it's "Varmadillo" not armadillo.  London Homesick Blues

These days, I have a real hatred of going to the doctor.  I will go see my psychiatrist as directed.  I will fill my prescriptions and take them as directed.  I will get my blood tests on an ongoing basis (I need to do the kidney and liver one pretty soon).  I drink my water and take my vitamins.  But that's pretty much it.

I've got a great primary doc in a box.  Of course, his rates have literally doubled since 2009 due health care legislation, which I'm not discussing.  Agh.  I'll get a migraine.  If ... nope, not writing. 

When I was sick, I knew I had an illness/ailment that would kill me.  I knew I was dying and it scared the hell out of me.  I had a lot of abdominal pains - so I was always going to the doctor and trying to get it fixed, so I wouldn't die.  They would do blood tests and say "Whatever you've got isn't fatal, so go home".  I had ultrasounds.  A CAT scan.  Enough X rays to become my own nightlight.  No help. 

One day I knew I would kill myself if I didn't get help, and finally I had a diagnosis and a treatment plan.  I think my disgust with the medical profession goes back to the old days.  I begged for help and they were all blinder than Ron.  I spent so many years in terror this thing would kill me, and it very nearly did. 

I basically had to save myself, with God's help. 

This is a wrong thing: I hear someone going on, "Oh, I was vomiting for a couple hours, so I went to the ER".  I think, wimp.  During one remarkable migraine last year, I vomited for 2 days straight and never considered a trip to the hospital. 

When I had insurance, when I could go to the ER, when it was a short walk from my home - it always seemed like more stress, pain, and aggravation than it would have been to just stay home.  So, I stayed home.  I have suppositories.  I have tablets.  If I can hold the tablet down, I take it.  I have the suppository in other cases. 

I feel disdain for people who run to the doctor for every little thing.  The kitten tried to climb me like a tree; one claw entered my skin and I ended up with an abscess.  I treated it at home.  I'm fine.  I have a small scar but it was a pretty bad abscess.  The last thing I wanted to do was wait somewhere with the obligatory sick, crying, baby screaming in my ear.  Little kids running wild, getting into my stuff, and grabbing me (the last time I went to the ER).  Really scary looking homeless dudes with nasty wet coughs, wanting to sit next to me. 

Or I could do some hot compresses. Duh.  That is not a hard question. 

You also have to look at what happened with Ron back in 2008.  He had an abscess on his face.  We went to the doctor and spent thousands of dollars, hours and hours in waiting rooms and waiting on metrolift, nothing ever done for it.  Every diagnostic procedure in the world, we later found out the doctor owned part of the imaging center so she ran a lot of unecessary tests.  Then, the thing drains on it's own.  Ron goes back to the doctor who says "Oh, it's an INFECTION" - duh!  Gives him penicillin on top of Bactrim, which is a big no, and causes permanent neuropathy as a result.  But Ron wasn't done yet.  More testing, more money spent, more wasted time.  You can look it up, July 2008 to February 2009. 

I could have treated it at home, with hot compresses.  But we wanted to do the "right" thing.  Now we are out all the money, they sure weren't giving us a refund.

I guess you can see why I'm a little bitter.  Do I hate the medical profession?  Absolutely not.  But I think too many people run to "doctor" to fix things when they could take care of it at home.