Doctor Blog

("Doctor" by Kate Fischer, 9/25/08; MSN Paint)

I went to the doctor,
The doctor said,
"Won't be long
'Afore you're dead."

Nah -- He really didn't say that. That was just me. Ha ha.

Actually, this was my G.P, and he usually doesn't say much. He just lets me tell him what I think I have, and what I want to do about it. (That's how I get my Adderall for ADD.)

I like him. He's really nice. Today, though, I felt like he was rushing me a little. I could tell by the way his eyes started darting around when I was only halfway through the tale of my adventures with the asthma/allergy specialist I saw a few months ago (who shall remain nameless).

Ok -- I admit it. I was trying to get Dr. Asthma/Allergy in trouble for prescribing a bunch of crap I didn't need, but I should have known that wouldn't work. Dr. GP didn't try to defind Dr. Asthma/Allergy, but I could tell he didn't want to hear anything really defamatory about one of his cohorts. Understandable, I guess. Like I said, he's a nice guy. That's why he was genuinely pleased when I told him that I really like my pulmonologist (who shall also remain nameless, just so I'm being consistent throughout this blog.)

So what it comes down to is this: Dr. GP actually rescinded the asthma diagnosis he'd made a couple years ago. I didn't ask him to -- He just knew that's what I wanted him to do! (See why I like him?) Then, he made sympathetic little comments as I told him all about how Dr. Asthma/Allergy wouldn't even listen to me, but rather, just sent his nurse in with a list of five different prescriptions I was to begin taking. All at once. For a condition it turns out I didn't even have!

(Actually, Dr. GP allowed me to go on for longer than I probably should have. I really hadn't intended to say that much, because I want him to think I'm nice, too. I think it may be too late for that now, though. Sigh.)

Now here comes the good part -- the "Validation." After I'd told Dr. GP what Dr. Pulmonologist had determined, i.e, that I have scar tissue on my lungs from an unknown cause; and what my diagnosis was (based on extensive medical research...Hello! At least seven different websites) -- Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis, he very coolly said,

"That could be one cause." Then he said, "So you're not taking any of those medications now, are you?"

"No." I said, emphatically.

"Good," he said, equally emphatically.

So there it is, Ladies and Gentlemen. I was right! It would not have been good if I had started medicating myself for asthma, when I did not, in fact, have asthma. (Even though it seemed like asthma when it first cropped up.) Of course it's probably not good if the reason I haven't been given a bunch of prescriptions is that nothing's going to make scar tissue go away anyway. (Hmmm, is that an oxygen tank I see in my future?) But it is good that I have faith that everything really is in God's hands; nothing's going to happen that He doesn't want to happen. So it's all good...

(And I definitely prefer nice doctors, no matter what they tell me!)