A new route
We finally got our courage up and changed doctors. Why is there such guilt associated with this particular move? As the Man said, “But, I like Dr. XX so much. I really hate to hurt his feelings.” We just finally had to realize that it doesn’t matter if we really, really, really like him. That’s not the point. I really, really, really like my three-year old granddaughters, but I don’t think I want them treating us for illnesses (although sometimes their presence is more medicine that the doctor prescribes).
I am sick of doctors that are allergic to old people. I have never understood the fixation with chronological age. That must be obvious since the Man is 30 years older than I am; however, his blood pressure today was 120/60 while mine probably couldn’t be charted! Age is a relative thing. It’s all in the health. I have diabetes, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, have had a light stroke, migraines, etc. The Man has none of these things. The only thing wrong with him is his bones have served their time with hard work – way harder than most of us could even imagine.
His previous doctor said he had congestive heart failure. I asked how he knew that – was it a blood test or could he detect it with the stethoscope? No, he just said that most people at “his age” have some heart failure. That went into his medical file. How scientific was that, and now it follows him to every surgeon he will see.
The new doctor said she saw no signs of any heart failure and although many elderly do have some, it’s not a done deal. And she also noted that there was no treatment going on for it in his chart.
No more bitching today. It’s been too good a day.