As commonly happens
when you hit a certain age and all of those years of not taking care
of yourself because, honestly, you never expected to be alive this
long, health problems crop up that necessitate regular doctor visits.
Holding a commercial driver’s license like I do, such visits
become mandatory for me to be able to keep my license, and by
extension, my job.
About five years
ago, one of my routine DOT physicals detected that my blood pressure
was a tad elevated. I’m sure that having just come off the road
after dealing with typical rush-hour traffic would be enough to make
anyone’s blood pressure a bit high, but I still needed to seek out
a doctor to confirm the diagnosis and begin a treatment plan, if so
warranted.
What does all of
this have to do with the word of the day? you may be asking yourself.
A fair question, that, and congratulate yourself for being so smart
to think to even ask it in the first place.
You see, up until
this moment, I did not have a primary care doctor. I didn’t have
ANY doctor, mostly because I couldn’t AFFORD a doctor. I did some
research, which consisted of looking through the provider directory
in my insurance plan to find one that was taking new patients, was
close by, and hopefully would not start the lecture on how I had let
myself go.
I met with the
doctor, and he seemed like a decent sort until he started scaring me
with his use of the “D” word as related to my weight and overall
well-being, the word being “diabetes.” Naturally, being a new
patient, he wanted to get some blood drawn to see what he might be
dealing with. I didn't think much of this as it seemed fairly
routine to me.
Until, visit after
visit, he always concluded by ordering more blood drawn.
LOTS of it. I think
the record was ten tubes of blood in one sitting.
This led me to
develop a theory about my doctor fellow. I am now convinced that my
doctor is, in reality, a sanguinarian. He’s not drawing ALL of
that blood for testing purposes, it’s so he can have a snack during
the busy day ahead. It’s how he keeps his youthful appearance …
see a couple of patients, chug a tube or two, back to work.
I’ve also never
seen him venture out toward the front of the office, with the big
windows that let the sunlight in. Just sayin’.
Anyway, to wrap this
up, I was indeed diagnosed as hypertensive, with a few other maladies
thrown in for good measure. I now take all kinds o’ pills that
don’t give me all kinds o’ thrills, but I’m feeling a bit
better than I had been.
And it seems the
doc’s on a diet. Only four tubes this last visit. Maybe it’s
because of all that bacon fat running through my veins… might be
raising his cholesterol.