Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Don't Make Me Sick

Just came in contact with the medical community. I hate the medical community.
Had to give blood. Have my cholesterol checked. For which I take Crestor. A prescription drug. That makes a lot of money for a lot of people.
When I say I hate the medical community I mean at my level. The level of a 98 per-center. A small human, just scraping by, with basic health care insurance. I take Crestor, I go in like a good boy and get my blood checked, I endure lectures about lifestyle and eating habits and I feel that my life is no more protected than if I did absolutely nothing. If I died from a massive heart attack right now it wouldn't surprise me. Even though I am being regulated. Even though I am being monitored.
At the level of care I get, the doctors might as well be throwing darts at a Will He Live or Die dart board. If I had the Cadillac of health insurance, if I was rich, I'm sure I could get CAT scans and MRI's and stress tests and every other goddamn test that would yield actual useful information about my health. I am poor so my healthcare is a crap shoot. I want to slap the medical buffoons who I come in contact with for pretending that they are my health guardians. They insult me and waste my time and gamble with my health.
At a high level, at the brain surgery, organ transplant, tumor removing level, I am amazed at what the medical community can do. At the most basic level, the level where health monitoring is supposed to prevent you from getting to the transplant level, I am disgusted. They pretend to know because they feel they should know. The body is too complex; too many variables; they don't know how you get to heart transplant levels, they only know what to do when you get there.
I got there early today so I drove around a bit. Drove around the hospital parking lot. It hit me how bizarre it is, how depressing, that this entire village of buildings is devoted to the sick and dying. Disease is such a horrible thing to endure as a human. You are only alive for a brief second; to spend any of that time suffering in a hospital, praying to live or praying to die, is soul suffocating. But we are all headed there. Not many of us will die peacefully in our sleep with a smile on our lips. We will suffer both pain and indignity as our bodies fail and we cry silently in horror and disbelief. And you will spend that time in the care of people who talk to you like a kindergarten child, and people who do not know what they should know to save or extend your life.
I also thought about all the employees in this medical world. I am willing to bet that a large per centage of them did not choose medical careers out of a desire to help humanity, or out of empathy or caring about others. I was an accountant for over twenty years and I hated every second of it. Despised it. I did the job at the most basic level, did what it took to get it done. I would have done a much better job had I loved accounting.
How many people do you know who love their jobs? Who made a rational decision about what kind of work to do based on their talents and interests? Very, very few. We all fall into our jobs because we have to do something. You have to feed the mortgage vampire. A large per centage of these medical employees you come into contact with, including doctors, are not passionate about it. They do not love their jobs. They look at the clock  just like you and I do and they think about what they will do over the weekend and dream about their upcoming vacation. They try to shake off their hangovers and focus. These are the people you are entrusting your health care to. Very frightening, and a symptom of how warped life is, how lost people are, just trying to survive and doing whatever it takes. Even if it jeopardizes your health.
The medical technician, or whatever her title is, drew my blood. Placed a piece of gauze over the wound, and before she secured it, asked me if I am allergic to tape. I was not awake, fasting, no coffee and I blurted out "You have to be kidding me. People are allergic to tape?"
This is what American society has come to. People like imaginary illnesses and allergies. They like pretending to be sick. It is the new form of cool. Ever hear people talking about "their meds"? Sounds cool to them, they like saying it and they like groveling for sympathy from whoever is within ear shot. And the medical community indulges them. If someone told me they were allergic to tape after I drew their blood, I would secure the gauze with thumb tacks.
This weak, wimpy society promotes sickness, much of it imagined, instead of promoting health. We coddle people instead of kicking them in the ass and telling them to just live their lives. However you want to do it. Drink two bottles of whiskey a day, jog five miles a day, eat healthy, live on cheeseteak subs, whatever the hell makes you happy. Just goddamn do it. Instead of expecting people to cater to your every imaginary ailment just so you can have an excuse, just so you can have a babysitter, just so you can say "my doctor says................"
Your mommy's dead. Grow up.

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