Parking for the handicapped

Last week we were at the local hospital and I realized that the parking spaces closest to the hospital are reserved for doctors and everyone else parks further away, including sometimes the location of the handicapped spaces. I realized the absurdity of this as I watched a man on crutches struggling to get to the front entrance. It reminds me of the time Arlene and I had gotten an ocean front Condo in Ponce Inlet and were asked not to use the handicapped parking space (which we had the placard for due to Arlene’s back problems) because that was closest to the entrance to the building and the able bodied people liked to unload their groceries from that space. I guess doctors do need to be close to their offices and hospitals, but all the signs “reserved for doctors” did not make me happy as I drove around looking for a parking space and going higher and higher to upper parking levels to find a space for we common folk. I’d like to share some experiences we’ve had with doctors.

Dealing with pain management

Arlene, my beautiful wife who has a back problem, had an appointment with a pain management doctor. He told her that he did not believe in giving her narcotics although the C.T. scan showed that she could be in much pain. He then began to tell us that when he broke a rib he didn’t need any pain medication, implying she should just tough it out. We concluded that he was a pain doctor; he allows one to be in pain. He was going to greatly reduce the dose of pain medicine our primary care doctor was already giving her, which was helping somewhat. We couldn’t leave fast enough. He was quite elderly and obviously hadn’t kept up with the new concepts of pain relief. We think he might have been an assistant to Mengele during the war.

The questionnaire

It seems that every doctor has a questionnaire that questions you on the drugs you use. Between you and me, I can’t pronounce the names of most of them and often forget to list one or two, so I have put them all in Microsoft word and print them out with a copy of my license and pertinent information. I list my wife, Walt Disney Jr., and President Bush as the point of contact in an emergency. No, I am not pregnant and never have been. I include my license and a copy of my insurance card. Why? Because the first question I’m always asked is: "Has there been a change in your insurance?" I didn’t change anything…Blue Cross changes once a week. Our premiums are changed (raised) several times a year, but we don’t make any changes; we know where our bread is buttered. When I am asked my co-pay amount, I like to say $3.00 in a loud voice. That usually wakes up everyone in the office and results in laughter. My co-pay is $10.00 and when people ask why so little, I tell the truth and tell them I’m paying $21,000.00 a year for Arlene and myself for an HMO.

After sitting in the waiting room for half an hour, the nurse will call my name. She’ll say …”Mr. Yahre, wait in room 102; the doctor will be with you shortly.” Sometimes I think they’re going to open a door that just leads outside, but this has not yet happened . After seeing the doctor my wife and I will disagree about the direction of the exit. Ultimately, we walk around in circles and someone points us out. I once went to a dentist that had six dental chairs and he would move me from chair to chair until he examined me; I never went back. It was like being on a merry go round.

The Urologist

My PSA had hit 29.0 and the doctor was positive that I had cancer. After 4 biopsies he finally agreed with me that it was not cancerous. He said he’d like to do a biopsy every three months to make sure. My reply was “If you do, you will do one of two things…cause cancer, or turn my prostate into chopped liver.” He made me sign a form saying that I refused the biopsy and then said, “I can release you as a patient and you’ll do the same thing to your next doctor, so I’m keeping you on.” Hey! He was from New York and I’m the only one that can understand him when he speaks so fast. Praise G-d for the king’s( Kings County) English.

Well, my brother Herb did get prostate cancer and this doctor treated him with seeds and it has been very successful. My brother and I would often get appointments on the same day and they’d allow us to go into the office together. Of course they always want a specimen. The nurse handed my brother the cup and he handed it to me saying ”I did it for you last time, now it's your turn.” We love to watch the expression on the nurse’s face.

Well, we were laughing and joking and by the time we reached the examination room, we were like two silly kids. I said that the doctor would not recognize my face but if I dropped my drawers and placed my hands against the wall he’d know who I am. My brother said “You wouldn’t!” I said , "Herb, doctors like a laugh too." It didn’t take but a few minutes and we’re both standing facing the wall with our drawers dropped, and instead of the doctor entering, the nurse came in. “What are you guys up to?” she asked. We explained the shtick and she began laughing. The doctor ignored us and got right down to being serious, even though it seemed to me he cracked a smile and shook his head, so I couldn’t see it. He did not acknowledge the shtick. As we were leaving, we could hear laughter from all the nurses in the offices as we passed them by. From that time on they’d call us the Yahre Brothers….double trouble…and would ask us what we were going to do next.

My friend Michael tells me that he once brought apple juice with him and poured that into the cup. When the nurse said it looked a little cloudy, he quickly took the cup, drank it down, saying “let me filter it again.” Ba Boom!!

Removing the Cancer

My wife was diagnosed with Basel cell cancer on her chest and we were referred to a specialist to have it removed. The doctor said I could keep my wife company during the procedure. We entered a room, totally painted white, with a bench-like table with a huge light above it. I felt like I was in a Woody Allen movie. I sat and comforted my wife as the cancer was removed. The doctor advised us that we’d have to wait an hour for the results of the biopsy. If it was not totally removed he’d surgically remove more tissue around it. It was lunch time and the doctor and staff decided to break for lunch. I asked the doctor if we could leave and come back in an hour, he said “No, your wife needs to stay here, but you can bring in food; there is a Subway’s down the block.” I returned with 2 large drinks and a foot long tuna sub to share. Arlene left the table and sat down next to me and we began to eat. She accidentally spilled some of her soda, commenting that I purchased too large a size for her small hands. I told her I’d clean it up, not to worry. I got some paper towels and proceeded to clean up the mess. As I was patting up the soda my other leg kicked into my soda and by the time I turned around that was all over the floor too. Arlene was starting to laugh when I turned around and did the same to her soda and spilled some more. For some strange reason we were both giggling, like kids, and hmmm, the sterile room was no longer sterile. I immediately went over to the paper towel dispenser and took out all the towels and soaked up the entire mess, including all the little slivers of lettuce that were falling out from the sandwiches. The trash can was loaded with wet paper towels and the floor was sticky. The doctor and nurse returned and told us we could leave, that the biopsy showed there was no cancer. Arlene quickly dressed and as we were walking out of the room, I turned to the nurse and said…"I don’t know what’s wrong with that floor, but it’s awfully sticky." Arlene gave me a dirty look…exit dauntless one.


Our Trip to the Hospital

Arlene’s surgeon is at Baptist Hospital and they offer valet service for those who are handicapped and provide a wheel chair  if necessary, to take you to your doctors office. I had given the valet the keys to my car and insisted that I navigate and guide the wheel chair. The wheel chair was xxx large but it was the only one not in use. Arlene is a small person and it looked like there was room left over for another patient, it was so big. It took up the entire elevator leaving barely enough room for two or three additional people. I pressed the button for the 7th floor and Arlene asked how I knew the doctor was on that floor. I reminded her that I was with her the last time she was there and I have an excellent memory for numbers. We de-elevated and quickly realized we were on the wrong floor. Too late; the doors closed behind us. I then said,” Did I say 7?"  "I meant 10.” So we waited for the next empty elevator and de-elevated on the 10th floor. There was a doctor in the hallway and he asked which doctor we wanted to see, I said doctor Garcia. He pointed us to the right and I said…”I remember going to the left." There was a doctor Garcia on that floor but not the doctor Arlene wanted to see, which was Garcia Ben Gochia. So I quickly wheeled her to the elevator saying, “Ah, now I remember. It’s the 11th floor”. Arlene said, “Go back to the lobby and look at the directory.” When we reached the bottom floor I couldn’t help myself and said “Wait here, I’ll be right back” to which she quickly responded, “Oh no I’m not! I’m not going up and down on this elevator waiting for you find the correct floor.” Oh well, it would have made a great story, as it turned out he was on the 11th floor and we arrived 5 minutes early. We had only wasted ten minutes going up and down in the elevator. Good thing we’ve learned to leave our home extra early when we go into the city, now that we’re older and seem to be making so many foolish mistakes. We did have a good laugh over it, thinking of ourselves going up and down like kids playing with the elevator.

Have a wonderful month and may Hashem continue to bless you.