Health Care

Dear Mrs. Higgins,

Well, with all the talk about health care, I thought I’d share my experience with you regarding my recent physical exam.

Ok, it had been a while.

Last time I went in, Doc poured whisky on a splinter, handed me a bullet to bite down on, and Miss Kitty and Festus held me in position.

Lets just say: things have changed.

First, there is the height and weight measurement.

And apparently, there is a chart. This chart was obviously conjured up by a hateful group of people who have never met a deep dish pizza.

I didn’t mind my numbers being documented, but was a little startled when the nurse called the entire floor over to “Hey, check out the stats on pudgy.”

Actually, it turns out my weight was fine.

But somehow my height is short by roughly a foot and an half. (like I can control THAT)

So, next is getting into the “gown” (can we say breezy), and measuring blood pressure.

And Mrs. H, it is so cool how some of the nurses aren’t afraid to share their spiritual beliefs on the job.

I was expecting to hear a couple of boring numbers, but instead it was: “Holy Mother of God.”

Now that’s comforting!

Finally, I meet the doctor who runs me through a series of tests - some more usual than others.

Note: if someone tells you to “turn your head and cough,” prepare for an unusual one.

Then the guy puts a rubber glove on one hand. And, of course, because I’m pretty savvy about modern medicine, I’m thinking his hand is cold.

Then, it’s like HEY! HEY! HEY! - that is no way to warm up a hand. (Next time I’m gonna bring in an extra pair of mittens. You can just have ‘em. Really. They’re yours. Just take ‘em.)

Anyway Mrs. Higgins, it was a day to be remembered. I really did like the doctor, and during chit chat time (which could be likened to a description of a condemned warehouse) I wanted to ask if he was from India or Pakistan.

Remembering that sometimes those two groups of people don’t get along, I didn’t venture a guess.

He did have a whole box of rubber gloves within reach.

Mike

Dear Mike,

Good that you finally got over your pride and cowardice and got checked out. Maybe some people around you would like you to be around for awhile.

Embrace the chart, my “savvy” friend. Hint: you’re unlikely to get taller.

Mrs H.


Helpful historical note:
A long time ago in a galaxy far far away: Gunsmoke was a wildly popular TV western with Sheriff Matt Dillon, his deputy Festus, and Doc (a medical doctor). Miss Kitty ran the hotel/bar and was kind of a girl friend to the sheriff, but this is back when cowboys only kissed their horse.