I was fortunate enough to receive a crippling injury which is in part responsible for my writing endeavors. But that is not the focus of this story, the focus here is doctors. As you may have gathered from previous stories, I’m not real fond of doctors. Due to the aforementioned injury I have had occasion to associate with several of the best and brightest our culture has to offer and all I can say is we are in trouble.

Where to start? I suppose at the beginning. When I was first injured they wasted no time in failing to determine what was wrong. However after several months they decided I needed spinal fusion. I told them this was not an option. Long story short I ended up getting injections that made my spinal cord tough and I was able to walk again.

But the fun didn’t end there. I began feeling very weak and always cold. After testing for everything my insurance company (and it was very good insurance) covered, lupus, muscular dystrophy and several other crazy things, they determined that since I didn’t have any of these other things that I must have a disease that I consider to be the catch-all for undetermined ailments.

Never mind that ninety percent of the people that get this are female and have eleven tender points, and I am male and have no tender points, they persevered. To the point that they were prescribing eleven different medications requiring me to take twenty seven pills a day. Once they prescribed me a medication that made my nose bleed shortly after I took it. They laughed when I told them this. Now there is a class action suit against big drugs because this medication caused heart attacks and strokes.

When I finally backed my “health care professional” into a corner he said to me that he didn’t know what the pills did, he only knew what the salesman told him. I said, “So your are giving me a medication based on what a guy who dropped out of school in eighth grade and became a sales associate for big drugs says?”

In no uncertain terms he replied, “Yes.”


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