Ever notice how everything that happens to you is always someone else's fault? How there are decisions you make that are the result of someone else forcing you to make them, because "their" actions leave you no other choice? "Well, I really didn't want to do this, but you leave me no choice . . ."
If there were a way to sigh in a blog, I would do so now. There are just times when I can't help feeling that evolution was a really bad idea. Forget about coming down out of the trees, we never should have left the oceans.
Let me tell you a little story . . . and no, it's not about a man named Jed, barely keeping his family fed. Absent all the gritty little details, for those really are my business alone, let's just say that I currently have some medical issues. Let's also just say, for again the details are unimportant, that current financial considerations prohibit me from running right out and getting every medical test done as soon as they are ordered. Life is one huge balancing act between competing priorities, and sometimes things have to wait to get done.
Now, I'm not whining about either my state of health or my finances. But today, as I was trying to refill some prescriptions that I really need to have if I want to keep sucking air into my lungs and blowing it out again, I discovered that my pharmacy would no longer fill them because my physician's office had dropped me as a patient.
Imagine my surprise. Escpecially when I had last been to see the doctor just about a month ago, and they had said nothing to me about no longer carrying me on their patient list. Sure as hell took my money, though, but not a peep in the vein of "Never darken our doors again, you mangy creature, you." Imagine how much greater my surprise was when I managed to get said physician on the telephone, and was informed that I had been dropped as a patient because . . . I refused to follow their medical advice, comply with treatment and get medical testing done when directed to do so.
Hmm. Seems to me that I have done everything they asked me to do. At least it seemed that way, when I was off getting tests done and seeing every specialist they referred me to. Now, I'll be the first to admit that I didn't always get a test done as soon as it was ordered, for the simple reason that I had to wait for the money to become available so I could pay for having said test done. After all, that's the way it works in this country: people expect payment at the time services are rendered. And trust me, my now ex-physician knows all about that, judging by the big sign hung up in his receptionist's window.
Funny thing is, I'd been seeing that physician for the past three years, and he knew all about the way I had to do things from the first appointment with him. Matter of fact, during that last office visit I had, they did indeed order a test, and I explained, as I always do, that I would have it done as soon as I had the money to pay for it.
Now, all of a sudden, after 36 months of treatment, that isn't good enough. Now, all of a sudden, it's a case of me "refusing to follow medical advice and comply with treatment." Hmm. If I were really the cynical sort, I might have been tempted to ask if my cash had bounced after my last office visit . . .
Which brings me back to my original point. After the shock and anger had had a chance to wear off - somewhat - I confess that I really had to admire how the physician tried to turn this around and make it my fault. Even if to rationalize it meant basically coming up with a lie. "I didn't want to do this, but you leave me no choice . . ." Which is amusing to no end, because some of the first words out of his mouth tonight were, "Ethically, I can't leave you with no treatment . . ."
Excuse me, doctor, but that's exactly what you just did.
But don't let me ruin what's apparently a really good ego trip for you, doc. Life would just be a grand thing if everything could be done exactly the way you want it, when you want it, and how you want it done. Such a pity that the real world has to get in the way of that, which it has a nasty habit of frequently doing. I've just got to say, though, that I know all about the God Complex. And you know what? You're not Him, so deal with it.
Really, now, I'll readily admit that I'm not the greatest patient in the world. I'm not the worst, either. But I do take the doctor's orders quite seriously, and I do get done the things they tell me to do, if not always as soon as ordered. I make no excuses for that, just as I don't expect them to cook it up into an excuse.
You know, I was in the business of treating people, too, for almost twenty years. Were there times when my patients tried my patience (ooo, a rhyme, I love it!)? You bet. But I never refused to treat anyone. At the end of the day, I still had to be able to look myself in the eye and be at peace with my soul. And I never forgot that they weren't there for me.
But perhaps I should have turned that sentiment around, as my ex-physician seems to have done. At least that way, I would be in-step with the rest of the world, right?
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