Follow up

I'm not dead: The scary voices upstairs were indeed MPR playing on the alarm clock, not someone waiting in a closet to kill me (I know, you're surprised). I was relieved, until I realized the clock/radio was turned off...and yet the voices continued. It was totally a Lost episode in my bedroom. I shook the clock a few times and water poured out of the speaker--leading me to believe certain cats had some fun with a certain half-empty glass of water on the bedside table.

I chickened out, sorta: I did not buy the neti pot. I could not get over the fear. One of the budget ladies convinced me that an Americanized nasal irrigation kit would be less intimidating. I bought one, I tried it, and it was terrible. The gross -ness, the water draining, the sensation--it was awful and I felt worse afterwards. I'm trying to convince myself to give it another go, but so far no luck. Rach, yes it was mostly that woman's vacant look that scared me away. Katie, any tips on how to make this work?

I'm freaked out

Earlier I noticed that my bed-side alarm clock was set 15 minutes ahead, which is weird because I don't recall it being wrong this morning. Due to my intense fear of the dark and the creepy Lost episode I watched tonight, my paranoia is running high. So of course my first thought was someone had broken in and changed my clock to mess with me and this same person would very soon jump out of a closet to assault me. I managed to convince myself I was crazy, and came downstairs to sit on the couch--you know, like a normal person. But moments ago I started hearing strange voices coming from upstairs, and I am again sure that I'm going to die.

Intellectually I realize that it must be the radio alarm going off, playing MPR--it has probably been going off intermittently since this morning when I forgot to turn it off. If it's measuring the time since I woke up, that would explain the incorrect time. Unfortunately, I cannot convince myself this is true. I am at this moment quite sure someone is waiting to kill me.

So while I work up the nerve to go upstairs, I'll share that I'm also freaked out by the neti pot. My stupid sinus pain is interfering with sleep, work, and general life. Plus Paul is sick of my bitching. Since western medicine is not working, I'm seriously considering an "alternative." Apparently the eastern solution is nasal irrigation. Sounds all well and good, until you watch this:



I'm going to buy one tomorrow. I could use some encouragement, because at this point I'm afraid of actually using it.

Health care = fun, redux

To top off my week of fun with health care, the mothership called on Friday.

Soft-voiced woman: "Um, ah, I'm looking for.....Abigoyle Read?

Me: This is she.

Woman: I'm calling on behalf of Dr. Bharucha at the Mayo Clinic...do you remember seeing him?

Me: (Wondering if this is a test) Yes, I was just there on Tuesday.

Woman: Well, he wants to make sure you got the breast imaging he recommended.

Me: Uh, he specializes in colon issues so I imagine he doesn't recommend much breast imaging. Also, he's not my actual doctor--he just conducted a colon procedure.

Woman: Oh, dear.

The Mothership

This week my colon went on vacation to the mothership of medicine. Mr. Colon saw lots of interesting people and places, and he’s quite tired from all the fun. He has some highlights and lowlights to share, but first to set the scene.

At the mothership, all of the staff look shiny and happy--from the surgeons right on down to the guy who wipes the floors. Speaking of the guy who wipes the floors, he and his other service colleagues wear vests and ties like the concierge at a fine hotel. In fact, the mothership resembles a fine hotel in most respects. The two buildings Mr. Colon visited each featured massive marble lobbies complete with multi-story windows, endless comfortable chairs, free wireless internet, grand pianos, and commissioned art. All paperwork is completed ahead of time and then scanned, so check-in is a breeze. Many patients receive pagers so they can roam while they wait for the doctor. The full-service ground transportation center helps thousands of slow-moving patients enter and exit the mothership effortlessly.

But anyway, back to highlights Mr. Colon’s trip:

• The aforementioned lobbies, especially the one with the calming fountain.
• Watching hundreds of senior citizens storm the doors of the main building when it opened at 6:30 am. Those old folks were moving fast despite all manner of physical ailments.
• When Mr. Colon crushed Mr. Balloon, and the resulting spike in pressure caused a computer system failure accompanied by 45 minutes of obnoxiously loud beeping (this counts as a highlight because it cut an 8-hour ordeal short by a good 30 minutes).
• Being forced to eat a gigantic thousand-calorie chocolate malt after fasting for a day and a half.
  
• Mr. Colon's moment of triumph when he learned that he functions just fine; he can blame everything on Ms. Confused Pelvic Muscle.

Of course there were some lowlights, too:

• Lying almost completely still for 6 hours, broken up only by medication that caused uncontrollable twitching and nausea.
• When the Thing We Do Not Speak Of inserted Mr. Balloon without any of the normal happy drugs (because Mr. Colon is lazy when he's high).
• One doctor, two residents, and one nurse all peering up Mr. Colon at the same time.
• When stupid host body cried inconsolably while the nice resident tried to take her medical history.
• (The pain that comes after) being forced to eat a gigantic thousand-calorie chocolate malt after fasting for a day and a half.

Health care = fun

I spent about an hour today navigating my health insurance pre-approval process. But that’s not the story. The story is: a few days ago my primary care clinic informed me that I am overdue for my regular Hemoglobin Alc test. Apparently this test is essential to the proper care of my diabetes, and I should set up an appointment immediately. Trouble is, I don’t have diabetes.

So, dutiful citizen that I am, I called the clinic just in case: (a) there is some other forgetful person in dire need of Hemoglobin Alc-checking, or (b) I have been tested for and diagnosed with diabetes without my knowledge. But I really called because of: (c) a really nerdy reason to be explained below.

I was passed around to four different people, until finally someone cared enough to look into it. She called me back to explain that I am overdue for an eye exam, so I should reread the letter because it was probably instructing me to make an eye appointment. Oh, yes, I am SURE I mistook the words, “biweekly Hemoglobin Alc test” for “annual eye exam.” They are so close.

Officially pissed off by that point, I launched into an explanation of why this is not just any old clerical error, but a significant issue that could affect their quality ratings and eventually the cost to patients like me. (Basically, a nonprofit rates health care quality based on indicators including diabetes treatment, specifically maintaining a Hemoglobin Alc less than 7.0%. Currently the state bases clinic cost levels (copays and deductibles) solely on cost, but will soon add quality ratings to the scale. Thus, if their testing compliance data is skewed by people who are not in fact diabetic, it could reduce their quality rating and increase my costs.)

As you might imagine, she was very uninterested in this explanation. Best health care system in the world, my ass.