The Finest China in the Cabinet - The Dish.

Well, I prettied this thing up a little, so I might as well use it. I have been gone a while, but the weather really hasn't gotten that much better. I mean, it's better than it was in February, but it would have to be, wouldn't it? It hasn't been much of a Spring, and we've settled into this cycle of rainy weekends that gets depressing fast. At least we're out of the cycle of snowstorms. It will be hurricane season in less than two weeks, and all reports are that it is going to be a joy this year.

I finally did the responsible thing and went to the doctor this year. I've been putting off a checkup for years. Mostly because I feel fine almost all the time (except for the occasional splitting headache) but also because I have this problem with appointments. I just hate making appointments and keeping them. I really like unstructured time. I think it comes from the years of "playing it by ear" with my Dad. That was his favorite expression, "We'll play it by ear." That meant that when he was supposed to come get me on Saturdays, sometimes he's show up at 10, sometimes at 1. More often than not it would be 10. And we'd either end up going bowling, or hang out at the garage next door to my grandmother's house and play with the tire balancing machine (both activities I thoroughly enjoyed!). Have you ever seen a tire balancing machine? It has a handle that controls the spindle that the wheel gets mounted on, and this level like device (like a bombsite) in the middle. You move the handle around until the bubble in the level is in the crosshairs, and that's when the tire is balanced on the wheel. It was better than any video game that existed in 1974, I'll tell you what.

Anyway, I never liked structured time. This explains why I didn't get my driver's license until I was 28. I couldn't be bothered to make the appointment. I hate buying tickets for things in advance, too (although I am getting better at that). So I hadn't had a checkup in years. Many years. I won't say how many years. I made a New Year's resolution that this would be the year I started going to the doctor. Of course, I made this resolution when I thought that that meant going to the doctor every twelve months and being told "All set, see you in twelve months." (I guess that kind of tells you where this is going, huh.)

I made the appointment in January. The earliest she could see me was March 18. And that got rescheduled two days in advance to March 22. So I show up at the office and I am pretty calm cool and collected. I fill out the patient questionnaire. I figure, "this is a piece of cake. I should have done this years ago. Not so hard, going to the doctor's office." The nurse comes and gets me from the waiting room, weighs me, brings me to an examining room, sits me on the table and rolls my sleeve up and takes my blood pressure. He seems a little concerned. He has me relax, and tells me to undress, get into the johnny and wait for the doctor.

So now I am a little nervous myself. The doctor comes in after a few minutes and we start to talk about my medical history. She takes my blood pressure. She's concerned. "Your blood pressure is very high," she says. "Why don't you lie down for a minute and I'll come back and take it again." So I lie back and try to relax.

She comes back in about two minutes with another doctor. The other doctor takes my blood pressure while I am lying down. "Hmmm," she says. "Do you have a headache, blurry vision or any chest pains?" she asks. "No, I feel fine," I reply (and I did, other than the sweaty palms and flushed cheeks I was getting from wondering what the hell was going to happen next). So the doctors look in my eyes, take my blood pressure again, and inform me that they have called an ambulance and are sending me to the emergency room. "We're very concerned. Your blood pressure is 230 over 174." Two-thirty over one-seventy-four. They inform me that of course, I am free to leave "AMA" which I realize without being told is "against medical advice," but given the circumstances I really should go along for the ride.

Now the action starts. The nurse is back, giving me an EKG. Another nurse is doing a terrible job trying to get an IV into my hand (unforgivable given the prominence of the veins in my hands). The doctor is barking commands for nitro glycerin and time checks and vitals. Two ambulances show up, one staffed with EMTs and one with real, live paramedics. The paramedics agree that they will take me to Mass General. I beg them to let me go to the bathroom, which they oblige as much because they want a urine sample as anything else.

In the ambulance, the nitro tablet they put under my tongue kicks in. What a mellow feeling that is (for now; it would later cause a nasty headache). The paramedic tells me that the doctor got a quick blood sugar reading from my urine and it was 400 (normal blood sugar is between 80-120.) She tests is again and gets a reading of 377. "What'd you have for breakfast mister, 4 Snickers bars?" She continues to tease me all the way to Mass General, which brings my BP down to 140 over 100 buy the time I get to their ER. I spend the day in the Rapid Diagnostic Unit being referred to as "the asymptomatic guy" by the nurses and attending physician. I was checked out that evening with very serious instructions to follow up with my PCP. Basically, the ER doctor said, "I wouldn't argue with your doctor's decision to send you to the ER, given the lack of history she had with you, but you aren't in immediate danger. You do have two very serious conditions that are going to require frequent, chronic medical attention."

I have high blood pressure and diabetes. Good thing I went to the doctor when I did. I am now on 4 regular prescriptions and have a blood glucose testing meter. The 'scrips and supplies cost me about $35 a month, not including over the counter stuff like gauze for my bloody, pricked finger tips and refills for my testing logs. I have started all sorts of spreadsheets and notebooks to keep track of everything, and keep graphs and tables and charts that my medical team love. I have a CDE (Certified Diabetes Educator) a Primary care Physician, a nutritionist, an optometrist, and I need to see a podiatrist. I've had enough blood taken for a years worth of Satanic rituals, and I had a wonderful kidney ultrasound where I drank a litre of water at 10 a.m. and wasn't allowed to go to the bathroom until 11:30. (The doctor said mine was the most distended bladder he had ever seen: "Look at that, it's the size of a football!")

So that's where I'm at now. I plan on continuing to write in here, with an occasional update related to health conditions and my experience with the "health care industry," but I have so much else going on in my life (including graduating this fall and going to graduate school and possibly taking part in the authoring of a scholarly paper and a book) that I don't have any thought of making this my whole life.