The Doctor's Visit

 

by Pa Rock

Senior Citizen Journalist

I am an older American which means that when I leave the house it is generally to go one of three places:  the grocery store, the pharmacy, or a doctor's office.  I could find a pharmacy located in a grocery store and save gas, but I would rather maintain some variety in my travels as long as I can afford it.  My medical providers, a team that I have carefully put together over the past decade, do provide an excuse to occasionally get beyond West Plains and expand my horizons.

I have my primary doctor and one specialist in West Plains, but two very important specialists that I see a couple of times a year are in Mountain Home, Arkansas, fifty miles away and on the other side of a nice stretch of Lake Norfolk - so it is an extremely scenic drive.   Two others, also critical to my care, are in Springfield, Missouri - a hundred miles away on a road that I could navigate in my sleep - a most boring drive.  The Springfield trips, however, provide me with an opportunity to visit Costco, one of my favorite retailers.

Ths past week I had an early morning appointment with a medical provider in Mountain Home.   That particular physician likes to travel, as do I, and we often share travel tales while he examines or treats me.  That day I had on a sweatshirt with writing on the front that said "Proud to be a Macy."  He asked if it was from a reunion, and I told him that I had bought it to wear to a family gathering in Nantucket which had been planned for March of 2020.  Then, as long as I was talking anyway, I mentioned that after the trip was cancelled due to the pandemic, the Delta Airlines had pocketed the price of my prepaid round-trip ticket from KC to Boston and back.

The experienced traveler who was treating me picked it up from there.  "Yes," he said.  "They probably gave you a voucher good for a year and when you didn't use it in a year it went away."  (Which was exactly what had happened. ) "The airlines did the same thing to me on a trip that I had planned to Florida when the pandemic hit."   As we both were building a full head of steam telling airline stories, he topped one of mine with his tale of going someplace by air and being routed through the "hub" of Atlanta where he had to change planes in order to go onto his destination.  But when he got to Atlanta the flight for the second leg of his trip had been cancelled and there were no other flights available to where he needed to be.  He was forced to rent a car and drive nine hours.  The airline offered him an $83 reimbursement for his trouble.  He told them keep the $83 dollars and also provided some colorful thoughts on the matter.

After we had worn out the topic of air travel and he still hadn't completed two minor procedures which he was performing on me, I switched the topic to my other favorite villain, insurance companies, and opined as to my unhappiness with insurance companies dictating what treatments and medicines I could have when I much preferred that people who had been to medical school make those decisions.   The nurse who was assisting him began nodding her head so vigorously that I was afraid her eyeglasses might fly off of her face.  The doctor explained that the nurse who was with him was responsible for preparing and mailing all of the prior-authorization letters to the insurance companies, and that neither of them appreciated insurance companies inserting themselves into the treatment process and second-guessing medical professionals.

As the doctor was getting heated about the abuses of the insurance industry, he suddenly shifted gears and said, "Before long the federal government is going to completely run the medical profession."

It was at that point that this Medicare patient decided it would probably be prudent to quit instigating the man who held serious sway over my health and well-being and who had an array of deadly instruments within his reach.

"Do you think it will snow?" I said.