There Is Nothing Like a Good Drug

And there is no better place to blog about drugs than your local Laundromat.  Yep–this Sahara-like heat that most of us are experiencing has made it the perfect time to wash and hang out the heavy stuff: sleeping bags and snowsuits (from unimaginably colder months).  So I’m spending half an hour tending a machine labeled “The Monster” as it desweats my sleeping bags.  Can you believe I am the only person in the Laundromat with a laptop?  Clue–I obviously don’t live in a college town.

Drugs:  On Friday, I weighed my options for treating my unnamable bodily grievance.  The pain had kept me awake Thursday night, and it had been increasing over the last couple months.  I was pretty sure I recognized the culprit from about twenty years ago, and some quality time practicing yoga with a mirror and a flashlight (I am so sorry for painting that visual for you) had me convinced of my self-diagnosis.  So…my questions Friday morning were these: (1) Is the walk-in clinic equipped to handle this ailment, or will I simply be looked at, charged, and shipped off to my regular physician? (2) If I call the clinic, will my regular physician be available? (she is smart–she has limited hours and lives a LIFE around her vocation),  (3) If she isn’t available, who do I want to see the recesses of my…? (Note: I switched to the present female physician after my son began playing tennis on a team with my previous physician’s sons.  It became terribly awkward to make small talk with the Doc in the bleachers, knowing that he’d seen waaay too much of me.)  (4) If I call the clinic, will they put me on terminal hold–or at least 20 to 30 minutes–which is typical of Friday mornings when some of us fools wait until we are dying to see a doctor for our ills?  Since odds were high for the big hold, my options were calling from home or my car, delaying my appearance at work (on a Friday–you gotta be freakin’ kidding me!!) OR calling from work, where I would rearrange commas and clauses while listening to pleasant music on the phone, but allowing my coworkers to hear an explanation of my ailment while I set up an appointment.  I selected the walk-in clinic, thinking that I’d see the overeager newbie Canadian doc who had successfully treated my nasty cough in December (with a great abundance of dope and lecturing me about supplements).

The walk-in clinic nurse (my neighbor) thought that the clinic could handle my complaint.  Hurray!  I’d be in and out, knowing if my diagnosis was correct or at least getting some peace of mind that I’d need to see a specialist and the end of my suffering was in sight.  I completed Interrogation One (which was still embarrassing, even with a very professional nurse) and sat eagerly in the examination room, when…in walks Dr. Scott, a different father of one of my son’s good friends, as well as the husband of a co-worker.  Dammit!  I told him right off the bat that I doubted he should handle this issue with me (if it had been a cough, fine!–but not an issue that requires a flashlight and disrobing).  He asked for a brief explanation, as I was already assigned and maybe it could be handled without getting up close and personal.  Nope.  We ended up chatting about our kids and trying to forget the whole conversation, saying b-bye, and moving me to another exam room to wait for Le Docteur.  Fortunately, the boy docteur has been whipped into shape by six months of experience, so his ubermotivation had been curtailed (better that than being undermotivated, I suppose).  I re-explained my problem,  underwent a rather painful examination, and then (hurray!)  had my diagnosis confirmed.  He prescribed a new topical dope for me…and it is a wonderful thing.  I am now on nitro.  (Google that and see where it leads.)  I also slept through the night without waking once, for the first time in weeks!

This isn’t the first time I’ve been saved by a good drug.  I once developed a case of “terribly itchy skin” (that’s the technical term), but something is screwed up in me somewhere along the pathway from irritant to brain to claws, and I react like to an itch like a cat with a new La-Z-Boy–I scratch the hell out of it.  And it feels sooooo good.  I was wasting a good hour each day scratching my lower legs.  I tried lots of natural remedies and over-the-counter ointments, but I finally gave up and went to a dermatologist.  He prescribed a vat of triamcinolone ointment (lovely bunch of steroidal anti-inflammatory skin-thinning miracle creamy goodness KISS KISS) and also recommended Sarna (handy stuff, too).  In a couple days, I’d given up my skin-shredding hobby and regained my free time.  So, the moral of the story is: Try the natural, simple cures, but don’t be afraid of modern medicine.  That’s sort of the Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance approach to health.



~ by rebuildingholly on July 1, 2012.

6 Responses to “There Is Nothing Like a Good Drug”

  1. As embarrassing as it is at times, us women have to bite the bullet and do what must be done.. Glad the Meds worked and you were finally pain free for a bit..

  2. Exactly! And as embarrassing as it is, modern medicine often trumps my efforts at being the Earth Mother 🙂 . I’ll have to keep that in mind if something truly serious sets in. Thank God for healing, no matter where it comes from!

  3. I’m an earthy Hippie SuperWoman, but even a homeopath told me once, “With certain illnesses, you’ve gotta bring out the big guns.”

    • It’s great to be an earthy Hippie SuperWoman! Most problems can be solved simply, and those big guns can be harsh. However, the relief can be phenomenal.

  4. Itchy skin is usually caused by allergy. You can take some antihistamines to minimize the itchiness. .,,,.

    Warm regards

    • My itchy skin seems to be related to my autoimmune issues, which are not as bad as when the doc thought I had lupus several years ago! However, I do have allergies, and antihistamines help somewhat. Thanks for the advice.

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