02 May 2013
Story #663
R. Linda:
Guido's birthday was just a small family affair since the big shindig a few weeks back with the wife's family was a BIG celebration. I noticed that at 4 years old, he still drools. I wondered if it was 4normal, so I called his doctor and asked if it was.
The answer was, "I don't know. I'll have to look in the medical books and see if I find anything. If I do, I'll give you a call, but it is probably normal for your kid."
OK. What does that mean? My kid?
When I told the wife, she looked at me with narrowed eyes, remembering a time not in her too-distant memory, and said snidely, "Maybe it's chickenpox." And she strolled away, still looking at me, like, yeah, go ahead, say something, and make my day.
That "look it up" business and Tonya's reminding me of chickenpox brought back a memory that was not exactly a good one, but it was memorable. When we first moved to New Hampshire, Tonya got sick. We had no clue what she had, but she had this spotty rash on her arms, and she didn't feel well. After a day or two of this, I insisted she go to the doctor. She wasn't feeling well enough to drive, so I took her there meself.
She was called into one of the exam rooms, and she insisted I go with her. We didn't have long to wait before her doctor came in, and the first thing he said to her was, "Look at you!"
Oh yeah, that made both of us feel so much better—NOT! I looked at her and then did a double take because I had not noticed the "rash" had made it onto her neck and bottom of her face.
After the preliminary questions and the checking of respiration, the examination began. The man looked perplexed, as if he had never seen a rash before.
"Terrible case of acne?" I said, much to Tonya's disgust. She glared at me, but well, I was only trying to be helpful and hopeful that was all it was.
He made some clucking sounds as he looked at her back. Pursing his lips together, he stood there staring at her arms, saying nothing.
The suspense was killing me, so I spoke up.
"So what does she have, doctor?" I asked after he had further examined all the bumps on her arms, neck, and face. I thought he was counting them. That's how long and painful this was for me.
"I've never seen this," said the doctor. I'll be right back." And he left us for what seemed a long while. Well, as you can imagine, that statement didn't sit well with the wife. Her eyes were like saucers in her head as she looked down at the bumps on her arms.
I was no help when she looked at me for support because I just shrugged; I was clueless.
When he returned, he had a giant book on a pedestal stand like Dumbledore's in the Harry Potter flick. He came in with it open in the middle and put it on the examining table where the wife was still sitting. He read a little and then looked at her arm, then back to the book, and he looked at us and said, "I THINK Tonya has chickenpox."
He thinks. Yes, he doesn't know because he has never seen an up-close and personal case of chickenpox. He's never had it, SHE'S never had it, but I have! However, not being a medical person, I couldn't tell the difference between a contact rash and measles, so I was no help. Plus, in my own defence, I was a mere child when I had chickenpox. So what did I know?
But the big book of medical ailments that just floored both of us indicated that's what she had. He was a young doctor, our new doctor, probably not in practice too long. We had just moved to New Hampshire, and this was our first appointment with the new medical practice. I surmised a new patient would get the newest doctor, which I think was the case. He was very friendly he was, but really? Bring the book into the examining room? Why not consult it and then come back without us thinking he wasn't sure or, worse, incompetent. This had me wondering about other visits to the doctor's office I had in the past. Every time they left you in the room by yourself, were they going into another room to look up your symptoms in a substantial medical book?
The voice inside my head wanted to ask for a second opinion. I wanted to say, "Please get the oldest, most experienced doctor in this building and bring him in here to look at me, wife." But before I could open me piehole, he was writing prescriptions and giving Tonya instructions.
When we got out to pay our co-pay, I asked the receptionist, "Does this look like chickenpox to you?" I pulled Tonya's rash-covered arm so she could see it through the glass. The woman's eyebrows went up, and her look was like, "Don't get that thing too close to me!" Once she realised the glass separated her from the creepy rash, she asked, "Well, what did the doctor say?"
"It doesn't matter what the doctor said; he had to consult a giant book. I want to know what you think. You've been here, I am assuming, longer than him," I said as Tonya looked annoyed and pulled her arm away.
The woman glanced at the chart, looked up with a sneer and said, "It's chickenpox." And she nodded at me.
"Ok then," I said, knowing full well she cheated in the diagnosis.
Tonya was all upset with the two of us. Stuffing her prescriptions in her purse, she started out the door, and I ran to catch up.
"But Tonya," I said as we both got in the car, "what if you have measles? That wouldn't be good for ME because I've never had them."
"He said chickenpox, and you've had that." She said, getting grumpy. "Can we just go get the medicine?"
Well, turned out she DID have chickenpox, which was a first for her AND for the doctor since he'd never seen that particular disease before. I was curious how you tell the difference between chickenpox and measles. But I never bothered to find out. All I knew was I was staying way, far away from Tonya until the rash was gone. She didn't like that much and saw me as unsympathetic and non-supportive. What kind of man did she marry who deserted his sick wife in her time of need? Uh-huh. I didn't budge I tell ya, I was convinced it was the measles. And yes, I was wrong and have heard about that since it happened. There isn't an illness in my family that comes and goes that the subject of chickenpox and measles doesn't raise its ugly head, and the story of how the poor, sick, bedridden woman was deserted by her unfeeling, uncaring husband!
Oi!
Gabe
Copyright © 2013 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Guido's birthday was just a small family affair since the big shindig a few weeks back with the wife's family was a BIG celebration. I noticed that at 4 years old, he still drools. I wondered if it was 4normal, so I called his doctor and asked if it was.
The answer was, "I don't know. I'll have to look in the medical books and see if I find anything. If I do, I'll give you a call, but it is probably normal for your kid."
OK. What does that mean? My kid?
When I told the wife, she looked at me with narrowed eyes, remembering a time not in her too-distant memory, and said snidely, "Maybe it's chickenpox." And she strolled away, still looking at me, like, yeah, go ahead, say something, and make my day.
That "look it up" business and Tonya's reminding me of chickenpox brought back a memory that was not exactly a good one, but it was memorable. When we first moved to New Hampshire, Tonya got sick. We had no clue what she had, but she had this spotty rash on her arms, and she didn't feel well. After a day or two of this, I insisted she go to the doctor. She wasn't feeling well enough to drive, so I took her there meself.
She was called into one of the exam rooms, and she insisted I go with her. We didn't have long to wait before her doctor came in, and the first thing he said to her was, "Look at you!"
Oh yeah, that made both of us feel so much better—NOT! I looked at her and then did a double take because I had not noticed the "rash" had made it onto her neck and bottom of her face.
After the preliminary questions and the checking of respiration, the examination began. The man looked perplexed, as if he had never seen a rash before.
"Terrible case of acne?" I said, much to Tonya's disgust. She glared at me, but well, I was only trying to be helpful and hopeful that was all it was.
He made some clucking sounds as he looked at her back. Pursing his lips together, he stood there staring at her arms, saying nothing.
The suspense was killing me, so I spoke up.
"So what does she have, doctor?" I asked after he had further examined all the bumps on her arms, neck, and face. I thought he was counting them. That's how long and painful this was for me.
"I've never seen this," said the doctor. I'll be right back." And he left us for what seemed a long while. Well, as you can imagine, that statement didn't sit well with the wife. Her eyes were like saucers in her head as she looked down at the bumps on her arms.
I was no help when she looked at me for support because I just shrugged; I was clueless.
When he returned, he had a giant book on a pedestal stand like Dumbledore's in the Harry Potter flick. He came in with it open in the middle and put it on the examining table where the wife was still sitting. He read a little and then looked at her arm, then back to the book, and he looked at us and said, "I THINK Tonya has chickenpox."
He thinks. Yes, he doesn't know because he has never seen an up-close and personal case of chickenpox. He's never had it, SHE'S never had it, but I have! However, not being a medical person, I couldn't tell the difference between a contact rash and measles, so I was no help. Plus, in my own defence, I was a mere child when I had chickenpox. So what did I know?
But the big book of medical ailments that just floored both of us indicated that's what she had. He was a young doctor, our new doctor, probably not in practice too long. We had just moved to New Hampshire, and this was our first appointment with the new medical practice. I surmised a new patient would get the newest doctor, which I think was the case. He was very friendly he was, but really? Bring the book into the examining room? Why not consult it and then come back without us thinking he wasn't sure or, worse, incompetent. This had me wondering about other visits to the doctor's office I had in the past. Every time they left you in the room by yourself, were they going into another room to look up your symptoms in a substantial medical book?
The voice inside my head wanted to ask for a second opinion. I wanted to say, "Please get the oldest, most experienced doctor in this building and bring him in here to look at me, wife." But before I could open me piehole, he was writing prescriptions and giving Tonya instructions.
When we got out to pay our co-pay, I asked the receptionist, "Does this look like chickenpox to you?" I pulled Tonya's rash-covered arm so she could see it through the glass. The woman's eyebrows went up, and her look was like, "Don't get that thing too close to me!" Once she realised the glass separated her from the creepy rash, she asked, "Well, what did the doctor say?"
"It doesn't matter what the doctor said; he had to consult a giant book. I want to know what you think. You've been here, I am assuming, longer than him," I said as Tonya looked annoyed and pulled her arm away.
The woman glanced at the chart, looked up with a sneer and said, "It's chickenpox." And she nodded at me.
"Ok then," I said, knowing full well she cheated in the diagnosis.
Tonya was all upset with the two of us. Stuffing her prescriptions in her purse, she started out the door, and I ran to catch up.
"But Tonya," I said as we both got in the car, "what if you have measles? That wouldn't be good for ME because I've never had them."
"He said chickenpox, and you've had that." She said, getting grumpy. "Can we just go get the medicine?"
Well, turned out she DID have chickenpox, which was a first for her AND for the doctor since he'd never seen that particular disease before. I was curious how you tell the difference between chickenpox and measles. But I never bothered to find out. All I knew was I was staying way, far away from Tonya until the rash was gone. She didn't like that much and saw me as unsympathetic and non-supportive. What kind of man did she marry who deserted his sick wife in her time of need? Uh-huh. I didn't budge I tell ya, I was convinced it was the measles. And yes, I was wrong and have heard about that since it happened. There isn't an illness in my family that comes and goes that the subject of chickenpox and measles doesn't raise its ugly head, and the story of how the poor, sick, bedridden woman was deserted by her unfeeling, uncaring husband!
Oi!
Gabe
Copyright © 2013 All rights reserved
