Monday, February 20, 2012

Dear Primary Care Provider

It is true that I have a rocky history with doctors.  None of that is my fault.  You people* like to play "Let's try to make Greg dead" a little too often for my taste.  Therefore, I do not like you very much.
*(This does not include the awesome Lisa Y. She is a great doctor. I also give blanket immunity to any of my other friends who are doctors, because they have never treated me)

A brief history of the ways doctors have strived to ruin my life-

1) Age 12- A bright eyed and bushytailed Greg shows up to get a physical so that he can join his middle school soccer team.  He has played little league for years, as well as gone to soccer and basketball camps.  This should be a cakewalk.  Things progress well until the doctor listens to little** Greg's heart and tells him there is an irregularity. For the next five years he has to see a heart specialist, and doctors have him so scared that he could drop dead from the slightest exertion that he does not exercise and balloons into a gooey lard monster that is shunned from every social circle.  He lives in the shadows, subsisting on french fries and whole hams basted in his own tears of self loathing. 
** ("Little" is a subjective term. Between the ages of 11 and 12 I grew a full foot and was almost 6 feet tall. I ate constantly to quell my out of control metabolism, and I shaved with a rusty hatchet that I stole off of a lumberjack I fought and killed in a carnival funhouse.)

2) Age 17-  Greg is told that it was all a big joke*** and that he has no heart problem.
*** (An exaggeration. The doctors have never admitted that it was all a big farce. The heart problem, in medical terms, "magically went away". )

3) Age 26- Against his better judgement, Greg goes to his primary care provider, i.e. YOU, to have what he suspects is a pinched nerve in his back taken care of.  The doctor, YOU, who ot should be stressed HAS MET GREG SEVERAL TIMES, states in not so many words that he has just noticed that Greg is ugly and that he believes that Greg has acromegaly, which makes him look like a caveman.  This means ugly Greg has a brain tumor.  You order many painful tests, and Greg is very upset for weeks while he waits for the results.  When you finally call Greg back, you laugh and say it was a big joke, and there is no tumor, but that Greg does have diabetes, so suck it bitch.  To make matters worse, the pinched nerve has never been fixed.

Flash forward to Thursday.  My throat hurts very badly.  I cannot eat, and it is agony even to drink water.  This has happened twice before.  Once, in college, I had strep throat which I left untreated for two weeks because I refused to see a doctor.  It was left alone until I kept waking himself up screaming at night from the pain.  The other time I had an ulcer towards the back of my throat. 

So, I woke up Thursday and could no longer bear the pain.  I called your office, Mr. Primary Care Provider.  Surprise, you would not see me.  I have never been able to see you without six month's notice.  Luckily for me, the nurse practitioner agreed to see me.  I was in the office for three minutes, he told me I had two ulcers at the top of my throat, and that the next few days were going to suck for me.  He then let me leave and did not charge me.  At no point in the meeting did he invent some illness that I did not have.  He never pointed at me and laughed, or made me take my clothes off slowly while he leered at me.  He was also pleasant to talk to and seemed to care about what was wrong with me. 

In other words, he was absolutely nothing like you, and that made me invite him out for drinks.

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