On Friday morning Toney and I met with the accountant who is doing our taxes, and it’s no good. We used to get refunds, and now we always pay. The extracurricular income I receive (website, book, etc.) isn’t taxed – until April 15. So, the refunds are a thing of the past, and the pendulum has swung in the opposite direction.
Not that I’m complaining, of course. I love that the site generates a bit of money every month. I just don’t enjoy writing a tax check. I’m simply not a fan.
This year I’m doing better with the receipts and the potential deductions I’ll be able to take, though. During previous years I’ve been disorganized and almost certainly left significant money on the table. Hopefully 2011 will be the final Year of the Half-Assery. I’m trying to go full-ass in 2012.
After that demoralizing meeting, I drove back to our little town here, and checked in for my doctor’s appointment. I’d been making Toney crazy talking about it, but medical stuff gives me the goddamn heebie-jeebies. Some people hate Hitler, I equally hate all things medical. And now the appointment time had arrived… I was awash in perspiration as I forced myself to walk toward the front door of the building.
And you know all that paper work they always make you fill out, when you’re a new patient? They mailed it to me in advance, which I appreciated. I just handed the completed forms to the woman at the desk, and didn’t have to sit in the corner with a clipboard. One of the questions: Do you wear seatbelts? WTF? What does that have to do with my health?
She also wanted my insurance card, and driver’s license. I was complimented for having my shit together, which is apparently quite rare. I then took a seat amongst a group of wheezy Civil War veterans.
Within three minutes I was summoned to the inner sanctum, and a nurse measured my height and weight (I wish I hadn’t seen it), and took my blood pressure. By this point I felt like I was about to lapse into cardiac arrest, and wasn’t surprised when she told me it was a bit high. In fact, I was braced for “astronomically,” instead of “bit.”
Then I waited. The nurse said I didn’t have to remain on the crinkly paper table, and could move to a chair if I wanted. So, I sat in that chair with the stress needle pegged all the way in the red, for almost 40 minutes. I had visions of me snapping the doc’s index finger off, with my spastic sphincter. And I wondered if Dunkin Donuts sells jelly fingers and nut rolls.
Sweat was pouring down.
Oh, and I almost forgot… The nurse told me the doctor had a medical student with him today, and wanted to know if it was OK if he “observed.” Here we go again! Last time I went for a physical, a 14 year old girl (supposedly a med student, as well) was in there while I was lying on a table in my underwear. What’s the story?!
Finally, the guy arrived. And he seemed pretty cool. I was sizing him up… He didn’t LOOK like a finger-in-the-ass kind of doctor. But, of course, what do I know about it? How could I possibly know?
He made friendly chitchat, and I told him I was concerned about my blood pressure. (Trying to control the conversation, and steer it away from my butthole.) So, he took another reading, and it was still high.
We talked some more. He listened to my heart and lungs, and looked into my ears with a light. We had a longish conversation about West Virginia. He had some kind of connection to the state, but I couldn’t concentrate very well. I think he said he went to college there, but my brain was racing and I’m not sure.
Clearly, he was trying to calm me down, and took yet another reading after our chat. Still high.
Then he told me he wants to do some “standard” blood work, and asked me to cut down on salt and caffeine for a month. And we’ll reconvene on May 18.
End of appointment. With my pants still buttoned! It was totally painless, except for all the self-inflicted stuff. I’d worn “possibly public” underwear, but could’ve just thrown on any old ratty pair. How cool is that? And I never even laid eyes on the medical student.
Of course I’ll be convinced (CONVINCED!) the blood work will reveal all manner of horrible stuff. Like full-body cancer, and whatnot. One of the things they check, he said, is prostate. So, that’s a relief. Maybe I was correct in my original assessment of the man?
He seemed like a good guy, and once this episode is over, I’ll be glad to have him in my corner. I’ve had no regular doctor since I was a kid, and felt like I probably needed to change that, for the past five years or so. Maybe I’m on my way to adulthood? Yeah, right.
After I paid my $25 co-pay, I had a quick lunch and went to work for 11 hours. Usually Fridays are kick-back off days, but this one was high-stress from front to back. The current two-week pay period at my job ends today, and I have more than 120 hours in the can. I’m exhausted, and quite irritable. Just ask Toney, and the Secrets.
Wait! Did I just say “in the can”? Shit. It’s become an all-consuming fixation.
See you guys next time.
Have a great day!
Now playing in the bunker
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Several years ago, my Uncle Bud went to the doctor for the first time in about 30 years. As I recall, they checked his cholesterol and it was literally off the chart. I think the machine goes up to 600 or something.
They took more blood and ran it downstairs to a real lab in the basement of the hospital. His cholesterol reading was something like 840 and they admitted him to ICU in about 2 minutes, fearing he was going to have a heart attack or a stroke any minute.
The old bastard is still kicking, drinks about a fifth a day and smokes about 4 packs of cigarettes a day. I think he turns 80 this year.
I was healthy until my check up last month. Now I’m hypertensive and have osteoporosis. WTF? Maybe I need to drink more…
jim britton says
Glad that all went well!
Relax, and try to not be creeped out by the small talk while someone’s probing your ‘special areas.’ It’s the only way. Us girls get to mantra that shit every dang year.
I too live in fear of the blood work results, which is why I haven’t been back to my doc’s office since he prescribed such testing last year. Have to stop drinking like a fish and not moving around before I’ll let anyone near my veins!
Congrats on leaving the doc unpenetrated!
Steve in WV says
It’s just like the dental racket. I never have a cavity until I go to the dentist. Then, suddenly, my teef are fully riddled with cavities. Whatta rip off.
Or you could just carry on like this guy:
Phil Jett says
I don’t understand why people get paranoid about see a doctor. Sure they could find something that could kill you, but the same thing could happen everytime you get in your car and go to work. They really can do some great shit to extend your life.
Because of you weight/height ratio he is probably concerned about your cholesterol, tryglycerides and heading toward type II diabetes. Head it off now, it gets even harder to change your lifestyle as you cross into your mid 50’s.
Most guys are not a fan of having a finger stuck up their ass and I’m sure most male doctors would rather be doing anything else.
Still, it does make for great reading Jeff.
Relax yourself dude, or you’re going to be playing the blood pressure pill game which will drag on unless you luck out with the right one from the start. My mum is on her 8th different bp pill in an attempt to find one that doesn’t have some sort of negative effect on her.
Gordion Knott says
Before my most recent DRE, I submitted myself to a massive purge-n’-clean regimen, to avoid any “issues” that might make it less pleasant for the fingerer. Sweet smelling soap, talcum powder, the works. I’d advise this, because it gives you one less item to OCD about when you’re on the paper table.
But the automatic sphincter clench. Fuck, I dunno how to solve this one. Mine went into auto-mode in the middle of the procedure, causing the finger to press against a sensitive internal nerve, and I groaned in pain. (The doc apologized, to his credit.) Whatever you do, don’t clench. Take it from me; this seems to be the key to surviving the DRE.
I’m thinking of dosing up with valium and concentrating on mental images involving rainbows and butterflies on my next attempt. Seriously.
Haha, jelly fingers and nut rolls. Classic!
You may have gotten lucky this time, but you should plan and expect for those tests to be done sometime soon. The doc’s not doing the test to check your sphincter elasticity…
I went to my doctor ten days ago, and my blood pressure was normal for the first time in several years. I still haven’t heard back about my blood tests, so I guess I’ll have to call to see if the office has received results.
My blood pressure is ignert high and I keep having all kinds of blood taken and whatnot. They can’t get my medication correct. I actually fainted like a lilly fag in the wal mart a while back.
My doctor told me not to worry about salt. “That only helps the blacks.” He said. “The blacks.” Maybe he’s a quack, but I can keep eating salt and he hasn’t fingered my ass yet, so I guess I’ll keep him.
I got $1200 back. That hasn’t happened for a while. Our village offers free tax doings so we jumped on By November I may very well be in prison.
I haven’t had a regular Doc since I was 17. Now it’s DOT exam every 2 years by whoever is at our little clinic that day. BP. hearing, balance, etc and they just ask me if i have a hernia. No ball touching and coughing thing. And how the fuck does that work anyway. Did that for my sports physicals when I was a kid. I’m 13 and got a guy with his hand on my balls telling me to cough? Weird.
T. Farty McAppleass says
Oh, I never get money back at tax time. Always payin the man. The man that oppresses my peoples.
Just got my blood work results in. My thyroid levels need adjusted again. Been dealing with that for 18 yrs. Wotta pain in the ass that is. If you don’t monitor your thyroid and take your meds, it can seriously fuck you up in ways you never imagined.
I hate taking pills. It seems like the more you start taking, the more you have to take. You take a pill for one thing and it fucks up something else. Then you have to take a pill for that….blah blah blah.
We wimmin’s have to deal with the finger poke too. Fell like a bowling ball smeared with KY Jelly.
I go for my physical May 23. You guys are lucky – you go for a yearly physical and, in most cases, your’e done. Not us dames. nooooo. Physical, crocth doc, tit plasterer. And we get the anal probe at the gynos, too. Not as far up, I imagine, but they still do a rectal.
Oh, and now that I’m turning the big 5-0, I get the added bonus of the colonoscopy.
Your 30 second ass probe kinda pales in comparison…
T. Farty McAppleass says
Everything I know about gynos I learned from porn movies. But this is the first I’ve heard about the anal thing.
It’s for a fecal smear/cancer check. No big deal as they’ve already done a lengthy probe elsewhere.
Wait, wait, wait, wait….. You waited over 40 minutes and you still paid a co-pay????????
I gave up on the doctor-as-god theory long ago. It’s a business. Who does he think he is? Someone important, like the cable guy, who can just show up any time between noon and 6pm?
Fudge that noise.
I once demanded the first appointment of the day so I could get in and out of the office by 8:30. I show up at 5 minutes to 8 just to learn that when they say 8 AM they reallty mean ‘that is the approximate time we open the front door’. They spent 10 minutes getting ready. The doctor did not see me until 20 minutes after 8. They looked at me angrily as I pointed out that they start the day out behind schedule. I never when back.
Haven’t been to a check up doctor in 10 yrs. Been to various others for hurting myself, usually while drinking.
I got 2800 back and am getting another 800 or so back from the two states I resided in. Buying a house and losing a job in the same year pays off apparently.
Oh and cashing a bunch of stocks for a hefty loss.
Went and saw The Cabin in the Woods this weekend. Holy shit that was a good movie.
Evil Twin's Wife says
My “lady parts doc” doesn’t do the finger in the butthole thing until the patient is 45 or has a history of some sort of butthole cancer. He said so many of his patients did not appreciate it (DUH), that he stopped doing it unless the former things were present.
I think that there are certain people out there that no matter what cancer they have it’s butthole cancer.