So, I had a somewhat bizarre appointment with my internist today. I have had bronchitis (turns out it wasn't pneumonia) and have been coughing for 5 weeks. I went on antibiotics around week 2. I also was on an inhaler, a mucous medication, and predisone for who knows what. The gunk has now spread from my lungs to my head and it's making me crazy! Seriously, it's not just in my head-it's in my head. You know that feeling when you have swimmer's ear? The marbles are rolling around in your head when you bend over. Well I haven't been swimming, or holding my head under running water lately but I have that anyways-seriously, I'm not making this up. I am constantly trying to equalize the pressure in my ears making that squeaky sound for anyone and everyone in the room to hear. I get dizzy, watery eyed, and headachy. All that good stuff. Each day is a bit more bearable. But throw in some tennis elbow making it so that I can't lift a full gallon of milk anymore, and the fact that I pee myself when I cough too much (mentioned before-sorry, get over my bluntness), some winter blues due to the biggest storms in recorded history, and a sassy teenager and I am thinking that this Doctor will have some sympathy for me right? Wrong.
Today I was prompt for my appointment and I was sitting where you sit after the vitals have been taken right outside the Doctor's office/exam room. I know from keen observation powers I posses that he is alone in that room and he knows I am out there waiting. Our eyes met as he walked in. But he keeps me waiting for quite some time while he does his other stuff.
Now Dr E was quite pleasant on our first visit. He even called me at home to tell me he wasn't coming in due to the blizzard so I should not come to my appointment either. After hanging up my only thought was that he at least should have inquired about how I was doing. Turns out he's not really that kind of guy.
Today when he saw me he asked me quite out of the blue, while looking into my ears, if I played a musical instrument. Not, "I see here your suffering from incontinence, tell me more about that." Or "It says you were a bit depressed during your bout with bronchitis, how are you feeling now?" He just wanted to know why, after 6 years I quit the piano. Now, I will tell you, that there was classical music playing in his office when I went in and the DVD was skipping or something, making him have to adjust it several times. He paid more attention to his stereo than to me almost. So maybe he thought that was the ice-breaker he needed to delve into my musical history.
The other odd thing was that when I revealed to him that I would not be coming back to this facility he seemed upset. Since there is another hospital closer to my home, I had made the switch with Tricare services just before my appointment. Nothing personal, just a better parking lot and the possibility of a lunch date with my sweetie. I think it may have offended him, because he was very brief with me from that point on, he stopped looking me in the eye, and he left me in the hallway to await my time with the out-scheduling nurse without so much as a good-bye. "Thanks" I called to him as he shuffled down the hallway away from me. Some doctors must have skipped class the day they talked about bedside behavior. Either that or he didn't accept my excuse for quitting the piano.