T. GAMBLE: Doctor visits are making me sick

I have reached the age where I have no real health problems, but feel it necessary to quit going to any medical providers. They all tell me the same thing, in different ways: You may be OK right now, but just wait a few years and see what is around the bend. The following is a typical compilation of recent medical advice I have received.

First I go to the eye doctor, who is also a longtime friend. We exchange the usual pleasantries, whatever in the hell that means, and then the exam begins.

“Are you having any problems with your eyes? Are they getting any worse?”

I reply, ”Well, not really. I still need reading glasses but they seem about the same.”

“Well, they won’t stay the same. They tend to continue to get worse. You’ll probably need regular glasses before long. Your farsighted vision shows signs of deteriorating, which is natural and expected.”

“Anything I can do to slow it down, like take special vitamins?” I meekly ask.

“Nope not a thing,” comes the too damn certain reply, “and, by the way, we need to check your eyes again for glaucoma, there is a space a little too large I see.”

Glaucoma! Oh my God! At this point, I might as well just drop to my knees, hands clasped and say, “Tell me how long I’ve got, Doc. Do I need to go to the Helen Keller Center and learn Braille before it’s too late?”

Next, it is on to the urologist. As we all know, you should get checked out every six months. “Are you having any problems with urine flow?” says the doctor.

“Do you mean trouble peeing?” I ask.

“Yes. Any discomfort, urgent need, reduced flow?”

“No, not that I know of.”

“Well, you will before long, you know, but please bend over and pull down your pants,” says the doctor as he now launches into small talk while examining me with hands the size of Andre the Giant’s. “Do you think the Braves will trade for a power hitter this year?”

Say what? I’m being violated by a large rubber glove, told that in only a short while I’ll never sleep more than 50 minutes without getting up to pee, have little chance of now sitting comfortably for the next 24 to 48 hours, and you want to know about the Braves?

Well, maybe the dentist will be better. “ Your teeth look OK — for right now. We want to try and keep them all as long as we can.”

“Keep them as long as we can? What do you mean, as long as we can? How about until I die?”

“Well, we’ll try, but with the gum recession here and the old filling there, dental implants may become necessary at some point — if your bones haven’t decayed too much to hold them.”

“Bones decayed? When did my bones decay?”

“Well, that happens as we age, but dentures have come a long way in the last 20 years.”

“Dentures! I’ll be damned if I’ll end up on a Polident commercial. Just shoot me now and get it over with.”

On to the last hope — my regular Doctor. “Are you exercising regularly, avoiding alcohol, fried foods and fast foods?” asks my overweight, chain-smoking, no-exercising doctor who is about 85 years old and looks pretty good to me.

“No,” I reply. “I plan on keeping living for a few more years.”

“Well, it will be only a few at your pace. Your cholesterol is too high, blood pressure too high, weight too high, and liver enzymes too high.”

“Is there anything that’s not too high?” I ask.

“No, afraid not …wait until you see my too-high bill,” jokes my doctor, who has now become Robin Williams. “We better set you up for a stress test. I’m pretty sure you are set for a heart attack.” Just like a doctor to try and cause a heart attack by putting me on a treadmill. Now they are trying to drum up business.

Oh, well, I guess I could talk about my trip to the neurologist, but I don’t think they found much there. Ha, now I’ve become Robin Williams. I think I’ll just stay away a little longer — at least until all my teeth fall out.

Email columnist T. Gamble at [email protected].