Adventures in Modern Medicine, Pt II
Aug. 27th, 2003 11:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grrgoylWell, for those among you who care about such things, I had my doctor's appointment yesterday.
And let me tell you how out of place I felt in the Planned Parenthood waiting room amongst all those breeders and (in some cases) their boyfriends. As I filled out my paperwork, I imagined them all staring at me, somehow instinctively knowing I didn't belong there. Or maybe they were just tired of looking at the condom endorsements featuring lovely young women facing off against amorous-looking men that hung on every wall. That waiting room was more provocative than the local adult toy shop!
My appointment was fairly uneventful. Despite indicating at every possible turn my (predominantly) lesbian status on the paperwork (there was a question "do you have sex with: men women both" but I didn't see any need to cloud the issue since I haven't technically been with a man in 11 years (sexual fantasies notwithstanding)), the nurse still asked in the interview my method of birth control. My response made her and her assistant laugh: "I have a female partner. The best birth control there is!"
I made it through the preliminaries and at last in to see the doctor. We chatted briefly, then she felt me up a little (believe me, no more titillating (no pun intended) to me than it would be to a straight girl....although later I couldn't resist joking to Tery "That was the most action these ladies have seen in a long time!") and before I knew it, it was over.
Just as I suspected, she couldn't tell me anything right there and then other than I needed a mammogram. She did want to take blood for some thyroid tests which turned into a mini-adventure all its own. The person chosen to take my blood was the assistant, still obviously in training, as she did so only amid many false starts and much screwing up of her face in uncertainty and concentration (which, like the incompetent mailbox man, did nothing to inspire confidence). The longer she took, the more of a production it became, and the more nervous I got. My only stipulation was to please not move the needle once it was in my vein, which happened to me once while I was donating blood and hurt like a sonofabitch (the technician claimed my vein had "moved." It was all I could do to keep from smacking him, hard). But she finally got her nerve up and did great (I made sure to tell her so, build up her confidence and whatnot).
The most pleasant surprise came at the end of the appointment. When I had first arrived I told the receptionist I had no insurance (hell, the question was the first words out of her mouth practically before "Hello, can I help you?") and she said the visit would cost about $60. Having expected to pay over $100, I told her that was fine. The doctor discussed some kind of grant with me and gave me a couple of referrals where I could use this grant. But still I never expected the final bill, which was only $46 for the lab work...the rest of the visit was free! I was thrilled and silently took back all the cursing I had done of President Bush and The System in general.
I took all my paperwork home, which consisted of one page with a list of imaging centers for a mammogram and said clearly across the top "Komen Grant" and another with a list of doctors that didn't mention the grant at all. I called to make an appointment with an imaging center on the Komen list for Oct 8, and put the phone down with a sigh of relief, satisfied that I had done all I could for now. This relief quickly changed to confusion, however, when the doctor called me back today. She first told me all my blood work had been totally normal, which naturally made me happy. But then she asked if I had made the appointmentS (emphasis on the plural) from the referral sheets. I said I had scheduled the mammogram and didn't realize there was more involved. She explained I also had to go see a surgeon from the other referral sheet. I hung up thoroughly nonplussed.
WHY would I need to go see a surgeon rather than just get a mammogram? Wasn't the surgeon just going to feel me up too and tell me I needed a mammogram? My faith in The System was shattered anew. First I called Tery for advice, thinking as she works for a vet she is vaguely associated with the medical profession. Unhelpfully she pointed out that our cat, Alsatia, has undergone more operative procedures than she has and I might be better off asking her. Alsatia, though, could not be reached for comment, being as she was deep in the throes of her after-breakfast before-noon nap. I next called my little sister, the nurse in Boston, who seemed similarly mystified. I called the surgeon to schedule an appointment, figuring I could always cancel if I got to the bottom of this, and I asked the scheduler if she knew why I needed to see the surgeon. "Well, so he can rule out the need for any surgery," she replied, her tone clearly indicating this answer was as plain as the nose on my face. I was too defeated to ask how he could do that without diagnostic tools such as a mammogram. Maybe he had a magic wand or something. After hanging up from that, it still nagged at me though. When I could stand it no more I called the imaging center and asked them if THEY knew why I needed to see a surgeon. The best they could come up with was if Planned Parenthood said to do it, I should do it. I am just assuming these are the hoops I will have to jump through to be eligible for this Komen grant. Like I said before, everyone wants a piece of the check, and there is no getting around The System. This is also probably why insurance is so expensive and complicated. I wonder if I will ever be able to make sense of it......
The good news is, I have a surprise coming soon shhhhhhh don't tell Tery: I found a refurbished notebook computer on eBay for only $150. I have always wanted a notebook, they just seem so cool and convenient, but have always talked myself out of it as really not necessary. However after spending 11 hours up here in this chair in front of this computer, sometimes in the evening I really want to stay online and attend to emails and messing with my LJ and whatnot, but absolutely cannot stand another minute in this sweaty, stinky chair. So I devoted an entire afternoon to browsing on eBay until I found this deal, a refurbished, slightly used Thinkpad for only $150. I simply couldn't pass this up. Note: This was only hours before Tery had declared my breast lump an actual lump and I realized I might be facing some serious medical bills. Otherwise I would have never done it. But now I am glad I did because it gives me something to look forward to, and in my opinion that makes life worth living. What pisses me off is first the guy waited a leisurely 4 days to even ship it out, then he sent it UPS Ground and gave me a tracking number so I can watch its agonizing progress across this great country of ours on their website. It won't be here until Tues. ARRRRRGHHHHH!!!! I HATE waiting for things!! Meanwhile I am tantalizing Tery by not telling her what I got. I only hope she is as excited about it as I am when it gets here.
-=Lainey=-
And let me tell you how out of place I felt in the Planned Parenthood waiting room amongst all those breeders and (in some cases) their boyfriends. As I filled out my paperwork, I imagined them all staring at me, somehow instinctively knowing I didn't belong there. Or maybe they were just tired of looking at the condom endorsements featuring lovely young women facing off against amorous-looking men that hung on every wall. That waiting room was more provocative than the local adult toy shop!
My appointment was fairly uneventful. Despite indicating at every possible turn my (predominantly) lesbian status on the paperwork (there was a question "do you have sex with: men women both" but I didn't see any need to cloud the issue since I haven't technically been with a man in 11 years (sexual fantasies notwithstanding)), the nurse still asked in the interview my method of birth control. My response made her and her assistant laugh: "I have a female partner. The best birth control there is!"
I made it through the preliminaries and at last in to see the doctor. We chatted briefly, then she felt me up a little (believe me, no more titillating (no pun intended) to me than it would be to a straight girl....although later I couldn't resist joking to Tery "That was the most action these ladies have seen in a long time!") and before I knew it, it was over.
Just as I suspected, she couldn't tell me anything right there and then other than I needed a mammogram. She did want to take blood for some thyroid tests which turned into a mini-adventure all its own. The person chosen to take my blood was the assistant, still obviously in training, as she did so only amid many false starts and much screwing up of her face in uncertainty and concentration (which, like the incompetent mailbox man, did nothing to inspire confidence). The longer she took, the more of a production it became, and the more nervous I got. My only stipulation was to please not move the needle once it was in my vein, which happened to me once while I was donating blood and hurt like a sonofabitch (the technician claimed my vein had "moved." It was all I could do to keep from smacking him, hard). But she finally got her nerve up and did great (I made sure to tell her so, build up her confidence and whatnot).
The most pleasant surprise came at the end of the appointment. When I had first arrived I told the receptionist I had no insurance (hell, the question was the first words out of her mouth practically before "Hello, can I help you?") and she said the visit would cost about $60. Having expected to pay over $100, I told her that was fine. The doctor discussed some kind of grant with me and gave me a couple of referrals where I could use this grant. But still I never expected the final bill, which was only $46 for the lab work...the rest of the visit was free! I was thrilled and silently took back all the cursing I had done of President Bush and The System in general.
I took all my paperwork home, which consisted of one page with a list of imaging centers for a mammogram and said clearly across the top "Komen Grant" and another with a list of doctors that didn't mention the grant at all. I called to make an appointment with an imaging center on the Komen list for Oct 8, and put the phone down with a sigh of relief, satisfied that I had done all I could for now. This relief quickly changed to confusion, however, when the doctor called me back today. She first told me all my blood work had been totally normal, which naturally made me happy. But then she asked if I had made the appointmentS (emphasis on the plural) from the referral sheets. I said I had scheduled the mammogram and didn't realize there was more involved. She explained I also had to go see a surgeon from the other referral sheet. I hung up thoroughly nonplussed.
WHY would I need to go see a surgeon rather than just get a mammogram? Wasn't the surgeon just going to feel me up too and tell me I needed a mammogram? My faith in The System was shattered anew. First I called Tery for advice, thinking as she works for a vet she is vaguely associated with the medical profession. Unhelpfully she pointed out that our cat, Alsatia, has undergone more operative procedures than she has and I might be better off asking her. Alsatia, though, could not be reached for comment, being as she was deep in the throes of her after-breakfast before-noon nap. I next called my little sister, the nurse in Boston, who seemed similarly mystified. I called the surgeon to schedule an appointment, figuring I could always cancel if I got to the bottom of this, and I asked the scheduler if she knew why I needed to see the surgeon. "Well, so he can rule out the need for any surgery," she replied, her tone clearly indicating this answer was as plain as the nose on my face. I was too defeated to ask how he could do that without diagnostic tools such as a mammogram. Maybe he had a magic wand or something. After hanging up from that, it still nagged at me though. When I could stand it no more I called the imaging center and asked them if THEY knew why I needed to see a surgeon. The best they could come up with was if Planned Parenthood said to do it, I should do it. I am just assuming these are the hoops I will have to jump through to be eligible for this Komen grant. Like I said before, everyone wants a piece of the check, and there is no getting around The System. This is also probably why insurance is so expensive and complicated. I wonder if I will ever be able to make sense of it......
The good news is, I have a surprise coming soon shhhhhhh don't tell Tery: I found a refurbished notebook computer on eBay for only $150. I have always wanted a notebook, they just seem so cool and convenient, but have always talked myself out of it as really not necessary. However after spending 11 hours up here in this chair in front of this computer, sometimes in the evening I really want to stay online and attend to emails and messing with my LJ and whatnot, but absolutely cannot stand another minute in this sweaty, stinky chair. So I devoted an entire afternoon to browsing on eBay until I found this deal, a refurbished, slightly used Thinkpad for only $150. I simply couldn't pass this up. Note: This was only hours before Tery had declared my breast lump an actual lump and I realized I might be facing some serious medical bills. Otherwise I would have never done it. But now I am glad I did because it gives me something to look forward to, and in my opinion that makes life worth living. What pisses me off is first the guy waited a leisurely 4 days to even ship it out, then he sent it UPS Ground and gave me a tracking number so I can watch its agonizing progress across this great country of ours on their website. It won't be here until Tues. ARRRRRGHHHHH!!!! I HATE waiting for things!! Meanwhile I am tantalizing Tery by not telling her what I got. I only hope she is as excited about it as I am when it gets here.
-=Lainey=-
