blog (January, 2004)
health, care
With my move to Cleveland and medical insurance benefits from the new job, I recently signed up with a local Primary Care Practitioner. A colleague at work recommended a few to me, and Dr. B sounded like a good match: his "style", as she described to me, balances typical Western (allopathic?) medicine with an openness to alternative methods and focus on health and prevention. That his office is just three miles away and none of the other PCP's were available helped sell me Dr. B's care.
I arrived today after work for the introductory appointment I'd scheduled, just barely late, down the drab thin-walled, thin-carpeted hallway into his office's small waiting area. The receptionist-cum-nurse led me through necessary paperwork and tests -- height (69.75"), weight (145lbs), pulse (66), blood pressure (110/70) -- then opened the door to leave, and was about to close it, saying "the Doctor will see you shortly," when the doctor pressed his palm and stretched fingers against the door to hold it open, while she chuckled and removed herself.
Bearded, mid-50's, just as Carole had described him. I'm thinking Dr. Andrew Weil-ish, right?
Wrong. This man is a warm-hearted, gentle, unforgiving bastard, I decided on my way home.
I managed to stay relaxed in spite of his barrage of questioning into my and my family's medical history. I smiled and "umm"ed, dumbly failing to provide solid information for each question and its follow-up that marched down the conveyor belt at me. Every broken bone of every dead great-uncle... and what time of day did I get my tuberculosis shot?
Well, no, not that bad, really. I smirked at his illegible scribbles on clip-boarded paper after each unsatisfactory answer.
He moved on from past to present. "Taking any medications?"
"No, just some vitamins."
Many doctors would be pleased, no?
Dr. B let me know his own opinions on how vitamins can be toxic and are absolutely no replacement from natural sources of nutrients -- and I'll be damned if he wanted to hear -- nevermind acknowledge -- any good in my own thoughts, trials, and learning. And not pleased was he, either, to hear I'd decided to cut meat from my diet, and even less that I try to sharply limit dairy intake. He could only vaguely site studies and as well as I, but was much more confident and authoritative in his presentation, and so I continued to play the role of the accused on trial. He tonguelashed me for drinking, finding it quaint I should worry about hormones in milk and at the same time "hand-grenade brain cells and drown my liver in poison."
No positivity -- it still bugs me. But I think he's darling for caring, and I need someone (new) to challenge me, my ways and my thinking.
I have to get my records sent to the office, schedule an appointment for an EKG, urine test, and post-fasting blood test, then ready myself for the cross-examination that will be my physical in four to six weeks.
Time for bed -- I'm lucky to have slipped being asked about sleeping habits.