Comments on medical care, manners and summer

When I call my “doctor,” I get a message that I should leave my name and phone number, and someone will get back to me by the end of the day. This is not always true.

When I do get a call and ask to make an appointment with the doctor, I am asked if I would like to see the nurse practitioner. When I say no, I want to see the doctor, I’m told the doctor can see me in two months.

I have discussed this with a number of others who tell me, they are really happy they were able to go to Dr. so and so, but they only see the nurse practitioner. Why am I paying insurance every month that assures me I can see a doctor? Whom, exactly, is the doctor seeing? There must be a lot of more important people than I who get to see the one who has actually taken the Hippocratic Oath.

I have nothing against nurse practitioners or doctor’s assistants, except that in my experience they are more anxious to prescribe medication, than to listen. I have been misdiagnosed at least three times, and even I knew what was wrong with me.

The last time I saw my doctor, three months ago, for the first time in two years, I had an upper respiratory infection for which a week’s medication was prescribed. I took the medicine, which solved the problem. Now every couple of weeks the pharmacy calls and says I have a prescription ready…the same medicine I took and no longer need.

I know it’s not sensible to harken back to the good old days when my father made house calls with his little black bag that carried everything he needed to make people well, but I remember those days fondly when you really knew your doctor.

Another observation: I like kids. While teaching for 30 years, I thoroughly enjoyed them and watching them grow up. For the most part, the 160 students a day were nice to be around. I tried to treat them like young adults, and they were respectful to me.

The other day I walked into the library where I was going to help a friend with a manuscript. As I walked in the door there was a group of four or five young high school students who immediately greeted me in a rude manner. I kind of joked about it with them and they started in earnest mocking me. I was put off. There was no provocation, no conversation that provoked this. So, I’m wondering, what is it that makes some people want to be “bad.” Surely positive attention is more satisfying.

School is out and the doorbell ringers are back. Isn’t there something more exciting to do? We have beautiful parks in Dover and New Philadelphia, summer camps, all kinds of music, sports and work activities. Our area has much to offer those who need something to do. Fortunately, the number of people who help others, are caring and kind, fully outnumber those who haven’t figured out yet that this is what we are supposed to do.

On the upside, the weather is finally creeping toward summer, all the plants that appeared to have died are at least hanging in there, and the garden may start to keep me busy. Summer is always a nice promise. I promise to try to get caught up.