Ecch Marks the Spot
[about the United States' hypochondria]
George Carlin: It's ridiculous and it goes to ridiculous lengths! In prisons, before they give you a lethal injection, they swab your arm with alcohol! It's true! It's true. It's true! Well, they don't want you to get an infection! And you can see their point: wouldn't want some guy to go to Hell and be sick! It would take a lot of the sportsmanship out of the whole execution.
—George Carlin: You Are All Diseased (1999)
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Last week I went to the doctor for my annual checkup, which happens about every 24-30 months. Shut up.
Naturally, there were a few things the doctor wasn't happy with. My weight is up (duh) and despite my good blood pressure, my total cholesterol number can only be expressed using exponents. I had a few issues of my own, however.
I mentioned recently here that my allergies are the worst that they have ever been in my entire adult life, and I shared this with her. That's right: I have a female doctor. My prostate exams aren't so much gay as they are a little kinky. Anyway, she gave me some nasal spray to use, and a drug called Xyzal, which is almost exactly the same thing as Zyrtec.
What's the difference? I'm glad you asked. Very little, it turns out. But the Zyrtec has reached the end of its exclusivity period, which means that you can buy it in the generic over the counter. So they move a molecule from the left side of the compound to the right side, call it a new drug and get another patent. This is an exaggeration, but not by much.
The Zyrtec, however, didn't have the side effect that the Xyzal did, which was to make me dizzy. I know that allergy medications may make you drowsy, but I've never been so whacked out that I was afraid to drive. So I stopped taking the Xyzal and kept using the nasal spray.
Too late, as it turns out. My allergies have developed into a pretty respectable upper respiratory infection, which means that I'm waking up in the morning and coughing up in brilliant shades of green; a green that isn't ordinarily seen in nature except maybe on the planet Fnark during Solar Flare Season.
So I've tried calling the doctor, who appears to have taken a long weekend, and had just about resigned myself to dealing with this until next Tuesday, when lo and behold, Wee One steps on a piece of glass.
GF broke a jar or something in the basement a few months ago, and despite her sweeping and vacuuming, Wee One managed to find a new shard. Worse, we couldn't get it out of her foot. It was almost 9:30 and we figured we were headed for the Emergency Room, when GF remembered a Patient First office nearby and tried to call. Woo Hoo! They're open till 10! Into the car we go to get this glass out of her foot.
On the way, it FINALLY occurs to me that I can get my URI treated while we're there. So while GF is trying to keep Wee One from screaming too loudly at the prospect of maybe having to get a shot for this before they extract the glass, I'm in the next room picking up antibiotics and a cough medicine that I could probably sell to junkies for $10 a hit. Once I'm done I head back into her room and I have to help hold her still while the doctor gives her a Lidocaine shot and uses some cool Doctor-Grade Tweezers to yoink out this piece of glass, which is shaped like a thorn and nearly a half-inch long.
The best part was watching Wee One try to walk out with a numb foot. And since I took the cough syrup shortly before I started typing this, it's definitely off to bed for me.


We had those urgent care places down in Florida a long time ago. I'm surprised they took so long to be popular up here.
And I'm about two years over-due for my annual. My doctor is a competitive runner and quite the nag. He declared me obese a few years back. My BMI is about 28. Overweight but far from obese.
Posted by: yellojkt | May 24, 2008 at 07:16 AM