When I retired I went on the state retirement health
insurance plan, which actually is pretty good. However, when I called my
primary care physician to make an appointment for my annual physical, his staff
informed me that he did not take my new insurance and I would have to find
another doctor. That’s great. Fifteen years of being taken care of by the same
doctor and not so much as a “Let me refer you to someone else.” or “I’ll do
your physical this year, but you will have to find a new GP for your next
appointment.” or “How have you been feeling lately?” Nope. Never heard from
him. He knew every mole on my body; he poked and prodded personal places my
husband doesn’t even know about; he peered into the deepest crevasses of my
womanhood. It was as though I was a kitten who had grown up being caressed and
cared for by a loving family and then tossed out into the rain to fend for
myself. Well, that’s exactly what this kitten has done. I’ve decided to take charge
of my own health care.
It’s not hard, really. I had my blood drawn at Walgreens. Safeway gave me my vaccinations. Solis actually called me to remind me of my mammogram (business must be slow). All
this is automatically submitted to my health insurance, which doesn’t have to
adjust any overinflated fees that the doctor charges, and I receive all the
results.
The latest take charge was my visit to have my mammogram. I
have always dreaded this procedure because it is not a very pleasant experience
having the technician grab your boob, plop and push it on a cold piece of
glass, and then squash it between two glass plates in a vice. So I thought of
some ways the radiology office could make a woman’s visit more comfortable.
First of all, have some quiet music playing, soft lights, and scented candles
burning as you enter the dressing room to undress. Instead of those sterile
two-foot long capes that drape over your shoulders only to cover half your
nipples, they can provide you with a little black lace cover up so you can
pretend you are getting ready to meet the man in your dreams. Second, as you
wait to be called into the x-ray room, you could lounge in a recliner, sipping
on a glass of wine. And third, while the woman fondles your breasts, a sexy
man’s voice could be piped through the speakers saying, “Oh, baby, you’re so
beautiful. I’ve never seen such a gorgeous body.” After your girls have been
violated and you get dressed, a tall dark handsome man hands you a long-stemmed
rose as you leave the office and says, “See you next year, Babe.” Kind of makes
you want a mammogram once a week, doesn’t it?
Meow – this cat’s going to make it through nine lives as I
take charge of my own health care.
