Male-Practicing

My new functional medicine doctor made his agenda very clear during the second appointment.

Wait, let's start at the beginning. The first appointment he spent one hour READING my new patient intake form. He asked very few questions and rarely even looked up at me. I found myself spending most of that hour staring at the floor. I drove two hours to be at that appointment. Why not just read in the privacy of his office and let me stay at home? Then he charged my insurance $600 for the hour. Is it any wonder I think doctors are overpaid? 

Our health care system accepts and promotes "practicing" as viable health care. If doctors don't find a solution, a remedy, the patient just keeps returning putting more money in their pockets. There should be a money-back guarantee. At the very least there should be standards of efficacy. 

This doctor also doesn't listen. What is new? It doesn't matter what I'm trying to tell him. Heck, I don't even think he read the intake form or he glossed over the parts that didn't fit his methods of practicing. His agenda isn't health care or at least MY health care.

More importantly, I think these functional medicine doctors have specific, single-minded protocols, and have no intention of veering off the established path. It would be too much work to actually recognize the patient is an individual with individual health care concerns. So much easier to see them as just another cow in the herd. After all, we are all the same. "Let's practice on that cow. We can do anything we want with a compliant cow as long as they are fed. It's not like they have the brains to question or complain."

I actually went back for a second appointment. Why? Because I'm a good cow. OK. My insurance actually covers him. That makes him cheap. I guess you get what you pay for. Most other doctors have a two-month wait for an appointment now. I justified if I can get a workable prescription so I can continue my thyroid experiments, it would be worth his insolence. Maybe he'll eventually accept me as a human being? Not likely. So far after every appointment I'm disgusted and vow never to return, but....I'm just as bad as he is supporting this health care system of incompetence.

He ordered $3,000 worth of tests during the second appointment, half of them I had done in the past year with lab copies in hand. Several of those tests I had done up to three times in the past year! He explains he prefers another lab. I wonder if he has stock in this lab? The other half of the tests are for nutrient levels and possible deficiencies...but I clearly explained on the intake form and again, verbally I am incredibly drug intolerant. I went into great detail writing every side effect up and down the margins. Does he think I'll invest in a cupboard full of pills and willingly take them? I can see he's not listening and I can foresee his agenda...excessive testing...then prescribing a closet full of supplements. He is no different than any other functional medicine doctor. 

About half of the tests are not covered by my insurance. One of the tests costs $450. A friend of mine is a practitioner and has access to tests. She said the lab charges about $200. The rest is the doctor's add-on charge. He's getting paid more than the test costs just to order it! There should be a law against this.

My labs showed nearly all nutrients fine so at least I know the diet is working. My iodine levels are low but he can't answer why. He tells me, "Every [cow] is low in iodine." He knows so little about Hashimoto's he doesn't understand the disease was relatively unknown until the government started fortifying foods with iodine...now Hashimoto's is an epidemic. Iodine supplementation will cause autoimmune attacks in people with Hashimoto's. He doesn't seem to understand that. Or maybe he just doesn't care. He doesn't get paid to diagnose correctly so why would he? I asked him why my autoimmune antibodies have increased. His answer, "Because you have an autoimmune disease." OH. MY. GOD. The incompetence makes me barf.

When I repeat once again, although very gently and sweetly to not rock the pedestal he has placed himself on, how I've done all these tests and treatments. How I am very intolerant to drugs of any kind including pharmaceuticals, but also supplements and herbs. I know this from experience. I can tell he's not listening. And he's ignored anything I've said about chemical sensitivity. Zero acknowledgement. His rant begins:

"If you can't do exactly what I want you to do, then I can't help you. You'll need to find another doctor."

I wanted to SCREAM at him, "YOU CAN'T HELP ME IF YOU DON'T LISTEN TO ME!" I didn't. It wouldn't matter. Then the truth presents itself:

He says, "Your insurance doesn't pay me enough because of the contract I have with them. I can only take insurance because I am HERE."

HERE? I pondered this for a while. What did he mean HERE? While pondering I resisted the urge to scream, "YOU ARE OVERPAID ANYWAY!"

I wondered if he treats his male patients the same way? Does he snap at them when they ask him questions? Does he dismiss what they are saying? Does he demand total compliance from another man and expect that man not to question? Hmmm....

HERE. He is bought and sold by a supplement company. He represents them and his office is located HERE in their complex. He is so compromised as a supplement salesperson there is no way he can be objective. It stands to reason he will order  as many tests as possible to justify prescribing as many supplements as possible so it will support his bottom line. That is where he makes his money. It's not about health care, it's about profit mongering. Most doctors aren't this honest with their underlying agenda as they pretend to be health care providers, but I think he just loves to hear himself talk.

Seriously, health care disgusts me. The stench of money is nearly as bad as the stink of perfume.

I went back for a third appointment. He's not happy with the fact the test results don't justify prescribing copious amounts of pills so for the third appointment he orders another $1,000 worth of tests. After arguing with him (gently), he finally gives me the prescription I want. I think he just wants me gone. LOL. I will be gone eventually. It's just a matter of time.

Adios, orange cone.

Moments of Joy, Part II (Works of Art)

Winter makes me a slug. I don't want to do much except sleep, watch TV, and pretend the world around me doesn't exist. I still have bouts of creativity, but they are few and far between.

My neighbor, the only one I kind of like, approached me about a year ago and complained about the potholes on the road down to the highway. It's used by truck drivers. He's a truck driver. Hmmm.... He drives his truck up and down that road daily, all the way to his house and parks it next to my house. I should hate him for causing my walls to crack and, of course, destroying the road that I have to attempt to drive as I negotiate potholes that are lake-size. It's life threatening. He complains. I made suggestions, but he's not real active. Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter...the guy is a slug year round. I still like him. He has a subversive streak.

So he approaches me the other day and says, "Tonight is the night. I'm painting the potholes. Are you in? Or are you out?" 

I screamed, quietly so no one would hear, "I'M ABSOLUTELY, DEFINITELY IN!"

At 10:00pm, dressed in black, and under the cover of darkness, we embarked on our secret mission:

PENIS POTHOLES!

It's a work of art!

We did about five before we ran out of spray paint. I felt very proud, exceptionally creative, and outrageously subversive. Adrenaline rushes are good for the soul. So is social consciousness...maybe the city will repair the road now. OK. I doubt it.

The whole way home we were planning our next mission since we assume the city will still do nothing and now that we have experience, we know what kinds of artistic improvements we need to make. First, we need better paint. I think fluorescent green or pink because white doesn't stand out much. We also need to stick with the bigger phallic symbols since they can be seen better. Bigger and brighter is always good when one is trying to make a point....or a penis. Lime green penises would be delicious.

I've been driving this horrible road way too often now because it just brings me so much joy to see the big, hairy-balled penises all over the road. If the city does nothing, I hope it makes driving up and down the road more pleasurable for others.

Moments of Joy....