Thoughts from the ammo line

Ammo Grrrll is right on time with EIGHT DAYS EARLY! She writes:

Some things that come early are good: Tax refunds that arrive before most people even get their payments sent off. Babies whose ninth month of womb life is in August deciding to give Mom a break from the heat and humidity and arriving a week before their alleged due date. Meeting your weight loss goal a month or two before projected so that you can relax and have a doughnut. Okay, one more – what could THAT hurt?

But Medicare’s “Annual Wellness Visit,” not so much, as it happens. Let me just say upfront that I do not like going to the doctor. I do not like it with the lab. I do not wish to weigh my flab. I do not like it when they call. I do not like it there AT ALL.

I stress about it for days beforehand, knowing my blood pressure in the office will be much worse than it was at home the morning before. Which might cause the doctor to order yet higher doses of the several medications I take. My betas are blocked (but thank God, not my alpha) and my Aces are inhibited which is a real disadvantage in Poker. I also take a nasty diuretic that makes me get up every few minutes to potty. At least I get steps for that, although sleeping with the clicker on my jammies is a bit uncomfortable.

But this time I decided to stop being such a whiny, anxious wussie-pants and just relax, put a smile on my face, and drive the mile or two to my “health care provider.” The beautiful Lubavitch rebbetzin at the synagogue we attended in St. Paul always told me, “Think good and it will be good.”

And she was right! I showed up, signed in at the desk and was told that “Dr. F has been called out of the office for a family emergency. Would you like to see our Nurse-Practitioner in three weeks for your Annual Wellness Exam?” Darned tootin’. I suggested October of 2032 as another option, but even three weeks sounded great because it was IN THE FUTURE and not right now. I walked on air to my beloved elderly vehicle which is 91 in dog years and sang all the way home.

As we all know, three weeks may SEEM like a long time, but eventually it too comes around on the old calendar. But, heck, this was just a “wellness” exam. I signed in at the desk again and sat in one of the loveseat-sized chairs waiting to be called. To my younger readers, one day it will be a shock to your system to realize that the rest of the world thinks “almost 80” is really really old. But don’t let it depress you. While waiting, I was encouraged to fill out a form asking many preposterous questions of a woman of just late, late middle age. A small sample with my answers:

Are you able to walk without a walker or cane?

Why yes, praise God, I can and do walk 3-5 miles a day. Every day. Without exception.

Are you able to do your own housework?

I am able to but choose not to. That is why I only clean my house on Mondays, an hour before my awesome housekeeper arrives. God forbid Mayra should see how we REALLY live.

Can you use the toilet facilities and attend to hygiene involved with it?

I pray to answer “yes” to this question for all my remaining days.

What are your preferred pronouns?

This is deeply offensive to me in an alleged medical facility. Look at me and take your best guess.

Having filled out a 30-question form, I waited just a bit longer until I was ushered into the inner sanctum and, after removing my shoes, jacket, watch, wedding rings, earrings, glasses, lipstick, step clicker and jeans, was weighed on a livestock-worthy scale which recorded my weight in kilograms or liters, a mystery number I chose to think of as 110 in pounds.

A sweet little young person took my BP and, while the systolic was a bit on the high side (no need for specifics), the diastolic was a remarkable 89. For ME, this was equivalent to a 110/70. She left the room and returned soon with what she regarded as bad news.

“Uh, we are so sorry, but it turns out we cannot do your Wellness Exam at this time because it hasn’t been a full 365-day year since your last one. Medicare will only pay for it if it has been more than 366 days and you are 8 days early.”

Perhaps at this point, many people would have gotten angry or upset. I just said, “Only the government could be that stupid. What would it cost if I pay for it myself?”

Naturally, the poor little girl had no idea, but came back with a ballpark idea of $150. I suggested they give me the exam and just DATE it 8 days hence, but that was a non-starter. Oh, gosh, we wouldn’t want any harmless Medicare “fraud” when there are “mills” in Florida that claim to process a thousand Medicare patients in a single DAY.

After many apologies from the Nurse Practitioner herself, she suggested, “You could come back in 9 days.” And I said, “I’ve come twice now, so that is not going to happen. It is a Wellness checkup and I am well, Praise God from whom all blessings flow! I will see you in a year and nine days. I do not expect that you will bill anything for this little chat.”

I honestly do not take this little blip as some kind of condemnation of our entire health care system. Despite the daunting sign warning, “Assaulting medical personnel is a felony,” all the people I dealt with from Sign-In to exiting the building appeared to be kind, sincere, competent people. How some computer or individual failed to notice that 358 days is NOT the same as 366, I cannot say. But it beats the heck out of a system where euthanasia is a common recommendation for depression, sinus infection, or gout.

We watched a dear friend in the Canadian system who was wintering in Palm Springs limp around in absolute agony until his name could come up on the queue for a hip replacement. When it did come up – after two years – he had one week to get back to Canada for the operation or be bumped to the very back of the queue again.

On the other hand, a dear Minnesota friend, a Master Gardener who had bent and pulled and stretched and dug for decades and had ruined her hip, finally had had enough one particular Thursday. Her husband made a call, she was scheduled for surgery the next day, and a week later was in Rehab walking quite normally. She was a toughie and, luckily, an American.