where to buy Clomiphene in nigeria If you are lucky enough to be “healthy”—aka free of terminal diseases—but saddled with the more usual chronic problems, you might just find yourself Doctored Up. By Doctored Up, I mean spending more time and money in the offices of “health providers” than you ever imagined possible. First, there’s running the gauntlet of annual check-ups with your internist, eye doctor and dermatologist; then (if you’re female), the gynecologist the radiologist (if you’re over 40), and the pediatrician (if you have kids). And let’s not forget all of those delightful visits to the family dentist and hygienist simply to maintain optimum dental health. And that’s just the baseline. Once you have a cavity, sinus infection or any lumps, bumps, aches or pains, you can start the rounds of seemingly endless appointments with physicians and specialists—sometimes alone and sometimes with loved ones.
Take this week for example. Yesterday I went with my husband to an orthopedic back surgeon for a consultation. For many years Henry has had chronic lower back pain from several herniated disks. About once a year he goes to a physiatrist for an epidural, and that usually does the trick. But not this time. Henry has had multiple shots in various disks over the past six months, practically turning himself into a pin cushion. Not that he’s anxious for surgery, mind you. He’s gone for multiple rounds of physical therapy. Desperate for relief, he even sees a chiropractor. My husband is not crippled or bent over, but his quality of life has been compromised. He can’t walk more than eight blocks, has to choose his chairs carefully, and remember never lean to the left. And, did I mention that he sometimes feels like there’s a knife in his back? Y
Yesterday, after we waited nearly an hour to see the doctor, we learned—surprise, surprise—that Henry’s not a candidate for spinal fusion. His symptoms are insufficiently severe He doesn’t have a dropped foot or sciatica, and he doesn’t lean on walls or walk like a hunchback. (!!) Besides, the success rate for spinal surgery is only about 50%.
“We’ll cure cancer before we cure back pain,” the surgeon told Henry.
Not liking this answer, Henry decided to seek a second opinion from a neurosurgeon. After looking at the x-rays, MRIs, and giving Henry the same physical exam he’d experienced the day before, the second surgeon came to the same conclusion as the first one: Surgery is out. He advised Henry to try more injections into S4 and S5 and continue seeing the chiropractor. In other words: try to live with the current pain and don’t come back unless it gets significantly worse. I’m no doctor, but I’ve been giving this same advice to Henry all along. Unless I’m in a casino, I don’t like 50/50 odds.
Henry might be finished with doctors this week, but I’m not. My daughter Sarah has an infection in one of her pierced ears, so I made an appointment for her to see our dermatologist.
“Of course you can,” I assure her. I need a day off from doctors and I know she’s capable of dealing with an infected ear lobe. This has happened so many times before I know she can handle it. But I WILL have to call the doctor’s office, remind them of her disability, explain why she’s going, and arrange payment. I’m beginning to think it might be easier (and cheaper) to give up on Sarah having pierced ears.