(“–AND I SHOOK WITH FEAR, LIKE A BOWLFUL OF JELLYFISH!!”)
that was me,after I got back from the doctor. I met Carolyn, at the restaurant, and she said, “how did it go?” I answered. “I don’t know,” and started to order something to eat. Carolyn looked at me puzzled; “what you mean you don’t know? What did he say?” Puzzled further Carolyn, at me. I puzzled back; “I don’t know. He never says anything anymore he just looks at me with his blank stare!”.
I was indeed the above jellyfish, quivering in the water, afraid and sure that a shark was going to come by and eat me up. Or, I was going to go to my doctor, and he would look at me with that fishy stare.– – which means, that after quite a few years of being his patient, he doesn’t know who I am, what I am, or anything about me, especially that I’m allergic to penicillin. He especially does not remember that when he writes out a prescription for an antibiotic.and this is a young doctor, not an old guy with burnout!
but at peace health Hospital Corporation, and all its clinics, it’s the young doctors who have burnout, and it’s the old doctors who have retired, so they don’t have to have anything to do with socialized medicine. it’s the young doctors, like Dr. Yah, my young Asian Dr.,who can’t remember my name or anything else about me, even though he’s seen me for years.
that’s what peace health Hospital Corporation clinics and systems do to them; the huge torturous schedule, they run them through, they burn out early, and you die, because they don’t even know what you’re allergic to any more.
I looked at Carolyn, and pondered (I do that really well); “maybe I should go to another clinic?” I said. She looked at me blankly, also; “it won’t do any good, they’re all the same. All the HMOs, and the Medicare clinics, and all the older people and us baby boomers, we all get the same Dr.s; they all graduated from the same specialty school, “idiots anonymous” and with a side specialty in “didn’t I see you last summer? –, or were you a patient? –. I don’t remember your name!–” it doesn’t do any good unless you’re very, very wealthy, with excellent insurance.
“We’re all stuck with the idiot new young doctors who couldn’t give a shit, send you to a psychiatrist because they don’t want to give you a diagnosis, it’s too much work; and they wouldn’t be able to remember what you’re allergic to, even if you had the biggest malpractice suit against them in the country.
“They don’t care! That’s because they are all either BURNED OUT, or they really just don’t give a SHIT! They don’t like the insurance, so they don’t want to work anymore!” I nodded at her, she was right. Unless we were super wealthy,,we were all in the same boat.
I too, was in the brave new world of medicine, where you have Medicare or Medicaid, or both, and they suck it all up.these hospitals and clinics just love that money!
But if you get sick seriously, you’re in a lot of trouble; your Dr. won’t diagnose you, he won’t remember your name, and he’ll think that your “tennis elbows” are a sign of rheumatoid arthritis without testing.– – yeah, if you really get seriously sick, you better call the funeral home, make out your will, and prepare to be inundated with morphine (hopefully.)
– – you’re in Eugene, Oregon, and you are stuck with the insurance that has no health ASSURANCE, and you’re going to die!
“hey,now,” I said to Carolyn as we ate lunch, “maybe I’ll never get disastrously ill or ever get anything seriously wrong with me again; maybe I’ll be lucky.” “Yes,” she answered, swallowing a noodle, “and pigs will fly over Eugene tonight, and I’ll be there with a shotgun to bring home the bacon!” She looked at me grimly; “what you mean you’re never going to get something serious? All of us get something SERIOUS!! wE ARE OLD!it’s just that, when you finally get something SERUOUS, you need a good enough medical team to get you well from it!”
I looked at her silently, mouthing silently. “What the hell am I supposed to do about it?” She answered me just this silently mouthing out the words “get some good life insurance on you, and then leave a message to your sister. after you die from malpractice,SUE the bloody hell out of the doctor and the hospital Corporation! At least you can get some type of revenge.”
we both decided not to have any dessert, it was too unhealthy. I had had enough UNHEALTH that day.I tried again, “well, if he misdiagnosis me, can I just sue him for malpractice, then get plenty of money so I can get well?” She looked at me again, wistfully wiping her mouth with a napkin, “you know that nobody can SUE that fucking–hospital–clinic–corporation, for malpractice and ever win!!”
I remembered,, when I had to go to Dr. Chapman, they used to call her “Dr. Chapman the Sadistic,” in the other peacehealthfamily clinic, and she decided,(once again,) that what was wrong with me, was not physical, and she sent me to a psychiatrist – – for BAD FEET! There was no such thing as a bone doctor, and the only foot specialist who was an orthopedist, in all of Lane County, refused to take me because he didn’t like Medicare.
Well, WHO DID LIKE MEDICARE? Not when it’s been cut to shreds!HELL, I didn’t like it either!
Carolyn and I sat there, chewing our cud,while we finished our coffee.”I decided I’m not going to vote Republican, next election, not any Republicans, I’ve decided,” I finally said stirring my coffee. “I finally found out that they’re going to cut Social Security at least 20%, get rid of Medicare and make us get insurance,instead, and get rid of all seniors health benefits.
“. I can handle having Hitler in the presidential office, or HILLARY in it, but I can’t face having myself lying in bed at home, slitting my wrists because I’m dying of something, and I have no insurance of any kind. Not even this stuff!I don’t think patriotism is as important as, “PERSONAL POLITICS.” Meaning, whatever politics keeps you well, healthy and alive, that’s the one you should vote for.” Caroline just smiled at me.
“now you’re getting the spirit of the saying, now you understand!” She said. “Now you get the way this world and this country, runs!! “what’s in it for me?!” That’s the name of the game.” I looked at her mysteriously, and mentioned “but what am I going to do with my doctor, Dr.Yah? if he doesn’t care when I’m sick or when I’m well, how is he going to notice when I’m terribly, terribly ill?” She looked at me grimly.
“HE’S NOT.” She finished shaking her head. “You’re in the same boat with all the rest of us, you’re going to have to go out and find a doctor, and pay him CASH to get you well.you’re going to have to dump Dr. Yah, and send him back to mainland China, where he came from.”
but I looked at Caroline, just as sadly, “but Caroline, that’s what my parents did, years ago when my dad had cancer!PAY MONEY! It cost so much, we had to sell our house and our land, and we didn’t have anywhere to live for a long time! It cost us everything, we lost it all, trying to pay the doctor bills!”I kept looking at her; “isn’t that all supposed to change now? Aren’t you supposed to NOT LOSE EVERYTHING, when you get sick now, since we have insurance?!”.
Carolyn smiled, with that wisdom that only she could possess, with the wisdom of the ages in her eyes, making her look much older, unfortunately. She said gently, “Sandramina, just because you have health insurance, doesn’t mean you have HEALTH ASSURANCE! honey, it just ain’t the same thing at all!”
(Sandraminadotty, just a jellyfish, in a bowl, getting flushed right down the hole! In Eugene, Oregon).