Home Blogs After Hours September 2004
A Day | 09.08.04 | 11:04:23 AM
While I was in L.A., in addition to seeing the ENT doctor for that pesky ear problem, I went to a family doctor for an overall checkup, which I haven't had in probably about five or six years. The last time, everything was basically fine, except for the being overweight.
So, when I saw the doctor and had my blood tested this time, I went in with this crazy confidence that I would be okay. Because I've always been okay. I've never had a broken bone or anything requiring surgery more serious than a tonsillectomy. I've never had any serious diseases or injuries or life-threatening allergies or anything like that. I couldn't even get addicted to nicotine or alcohol despite my best efforts. Not that I've been in perfect health -- I've always had a crappy immune system and been prone to packing on poundage -- but my body has never broken down in any serious way. I've been dodging those bullets all my life.
Which is why, when the doctor came in with my lab results and said, "You are in serious trouble," it sort of, you know, unsettled me.
There followed a litany o' problems:
Diabetes (type 2)
Hypertension
High liver enzyme count
High cholesterol
I think there was more stuff, but by that point I had enough to chew on. "You have an 80% chance of a heart attack!" the doctor said. "This is how you're going to die. Not from cancer. You'll die of a heart attack or stroke long before you get cancer."
I walked out of there with somewhat reduced spirits. It was actually kind of funny to look back on, because it was like a movie, where the guy strides cheerfully into the office, and there's a cut and then the guy is shuffling back out of the office with his shoulders slumped. That was me.
Now, after I had some time to think about all of this, I realized that the doctor was at least partially full of shit. This guy is the very model of the kind of doctor that I most fear. First of all, he's the kind of doctor who throws pills at you at the slightest provocation. High blood pressure? Take medication! High cholesterol? Here's some drugs! Lifestyle changes? Exercise? Pshaw -- take more pills! So he sent me out of there with a bag full of pharmaceuticals and not much else.
Then I took a good look at the results, and realized that he'd been reading them wrong! He'd given me a blood sugar level that bore no relation to any number on the page. He'd taken two pre-hypertensive blood pressure readings and pronounced me fully hypertensive (and wanted to put me on medication immediately). He said my cholesterol level was "dangerously high" even though the results plainly stated that my LDL level was well within normal range.
I can see what he was trying to do. He's one of those doctors who thinks he's doing you a favor by scaring the hell out of you, so you'll take these conditions seriously. He probably deals with people all the time who wave off his warnings and do nothing about their health until they keel over. I needed the scaring, to be honest. But you don't tell someone they have "full-blown diabetes" and that "you'll have to be on hypertension medication for the rest of your life" without being reasonably sure about your facts. Sheesh.
So, I'm not sure now what the situation really is. I know that my blood sugar is way too high, and that at the very least I have insulin resistance, if not actual diabetes. My blood pressure is high. (Although, oddly, it went way down when I tested it at my parents' house while my parents were gone...gee, could there be a connection here?) My liver is stressed. I'm pretty screwed up. I'm no longer invincible.
Everyone in my family says I take after my grandfather, who was a robust, energetic guy with big appetites, and who suffered a stroke when he was barely into his forties. He spent the second half of his life, another forty years, a shambling, barely articulate mess. Whatever my grandfather had been, the stroke sucked half of it out, leaving only this slow, dull-eyed husk who is my only memory of my grandfather.
I've always had the fear in the back of my mind, that the same thing would happen to me, that I'd fall down one day and never really get back up, end up mentally and physically diminished, whatever grand plans I had for the second half of my life demolished forever. Now, that fear is very much at the forefront of my thoughts. I think about it every day. The first thing that went through my head when I had that charley horse in my calf the other night was this is it, this is the stroke.
So, the doctor was full of shit, but he wasn't completely full of shit. I'm not well. I've been hit by some of those bullets I've spent my life dodging, and even if they haven't killed me -- yet -- they've certainly gotten my attention. So I'm getting serious now about dealing with these things. I know I can work my way back.
But the whole situation has left me with a crisis of confidence. I used to feel a certain assurance in life, that my mind was powerful enough to achieve just about anything I really wanted. It was almost like I thought I could will myself into perfect health simply by wanting it. But now my world is uncertain and outside of my control in a way I never truly perceived before, even if it was that way all along. Because (my irrational mind tells me) if I was wrong about this, what else am I wrong about? If I can't maintain my health, can I handle anything at all?
This may sound weird, but I don't think I've ever been as profoundly and completely wrong about something so important as I was about my physical condition. When that illusion of invincibility fell away, so did my whole sense of self. And that disillusionment has crept into every area of my life, from my sense of my ability to develop a career (broken), to my confidence in my writing skillz (dashed).
I know, rationally, that I have a huge amount of control over my situation. My health is basically in my hands, which is something to feel good about since it could be a lot worse -- at least it's still at the point where I can do something about it. But I'm rattled, and I'm having a hell of a time getting myself back together.
- - - Comments - - -
COMMENT:
AUTHOR: Jim
EMAIL: chaos@corrupt.net
IP: 63.167.178.72
URL: http://chaos.corrupt.net/
DATE: 09/08/2004 12:20:20 PM
Whatever his intentions, an intentional misdiagnosis, especially one that leads to a prescription, sounds highly illegal to me.
If it wouldn't be as much stress for you as it would be for him, I'd say he deserves a malpractice suit for his bullshit. Or at the very least, a crack over the head with a Snapple bottle!
Anyway, I bet that once you take a concrete step to better health, a lot of the disillusionment - both justified and emotional - will roll back.
-----
COMMENT:
AUTHOR: Jim
EMAIL: chaos@corrupt.net
IP: 63.167.178.72
URL: http://chaos.corrupt.net/
DATE: 09/08/2004 12:20:52 PM
I meant "purely emotional" actually.
-----
COMMENT:
AUTHOR: groovebunny
EMAIL: wabbit@groovebunny.com
IP: 209.246.244.1
URL: http://www.groovebunny.com/blog
DATE: 09/08/2004 04:53:50 PM
That's the unfortunate thing about getting older. We're not as quick to dodge those bullets any longer. I have to say though, the misinformation the doctor gave you, whether intentional or unintentional, is serious business. You're at a cross roads B. Huge move and now this. I think you're right though that there's still time to do something about your health. And as for the wavering confindence in yourself as a writer, you are still one of the best writers I know of. It's no wonder at all why so many of your readers waited anxiously for you to get back to writing.
-----
COMMENT:
AUTHOR: matthew
EMAIL: bino1@hotmail.com
IP: 66.84.175.24
URL:
DATE: 09/09/2004 06:28:59 PM
you called the b.s. from the doctor - muy bueno! i hope that you have the chutzpah to do right by yourself now that you have figured out your actual level of health.
-----
COMMENT:
AUTHOR: BOB
EMAIL: bob@agirlnamedbob.com
IP: 172.200.253.211
URL: http://agirlnamedbob.com
DATE: 09/12/2004 09:27:59 PM
I don't understand. If the doctor was pulling your leg to scare you into action, why all the pills? Maybe you should get a second opinion?
-----
COMMENT:
AUTHOR: The Raz
EMAIL: KevinRazban@cox.net
IP: 68.5.116.38
URL:
DATE: 09/21/2004 10:15:16 PM
It reminds me of the time in junior high when the dentist looked at my teeth and told me that I was also in "serious trouble" and in danger of losing most of my teeth by the time I was eighteen. I don't know if his motive was altruistic (scare the hell out of me so I'd brush and floss regularly), or whether he wanted to sell me a bill of goods (crowns, fillings, etc.). In the end, I figured he was full of shit and my teeth haven't fallen out. Still, I wonder if your doctor wanted to scare you straight or whether he really was one of those pill-pusher types?
-----
COMMENT:
AUTHOR: Mary
EMAIL: marymary@rantorama.com
IP: 24.8.4.20
URL:
DATE: 10/02/2004 10:00:01 PM
Getting old SUCKS!
But you're one of the most awesome people that I've ever not-met, so please take care of yourself!
☄
A Day | 09.01.04 | 02:05:03 PM
And we were driving, and Woo-Sam had the radio on so loud that it made my ears hurt. And what he was playing was some kind of classical music, because he thought it was funny to blast classical music out the window while he was driving. We stopped at a light and the people next to us looked over at us, and I shrank down in my seat. Mark, I said, turn that fucking thing down for God's sake, turn it down. But he didn't.
- - - Comments - - -
COMMENT:
AUTHOR: Jim
EMAIL: chaos@corrupt.net
IP: 63.167.178.72
URL: http://chaos.corrupt.net/
DATE: 09/21/2004 03:35:12 PM
I think some classical music is very suitable for blasting. Like Holst's Mars, the Bringer of War. Yeah, that'd freak out the squares!
Hmm. I think I'm probably often the causer of embarassment of the sort that Woo-Sam brought down on you.
-----
COMMENT:
AUTHOR: BOB
EMAIL: bob@agirlnamedbob.com
IP: 172.209.98.239
URL: http://agirlnamedbob.com
DATE: 09/27/2004 08:13:12 PM
Guilty of playing polka music at full volume with the bass cranking. Oops.
For Skattie.