Monday, September 28, 2015

Making a Living

Two weeks ago I had a severe dizzy spell that had me on the floor for several hours. Every time I picked my head up the world went spinning by, so I just laid there. Naturally once I got back on my feet, my thoughts immediately turned to what the heck might be wrong with me. So I called my family doctor, who else? He was stumped, which he readily admitted, but suggested I might have some inner ear disturbance and would possibly benefit from physical therapy. For my inner ear. Okay, whatever.

I managed to find someone who does "vestibular therapy," and made an appointment for several weeks in the future. The scheduler said my first visit would be a consultation to go over my symptoms. I said I lived half an hour's drive away and why not tell my symptoms ahead of time on the phone, then when I get there we could just get down to brass tacks, or whatever they use. She replied, "That's not how we do it." I decided a few days later after no recurring dizziness that I was not up for the consultation and cancelled the appointment.

This morning at 8AM (which I think is too early for anything less than a family emergency), I got a call from the physical therapy place. A nice lady wanted to "help me reschedule" my consultation. I said I didn't need any help and could do it all by myself, and definitely would when I want to. She then repeated herself, making me think it was a robo-call. After determining she was a real person and promising to call back someday, we hung up.

I related all this to my husband, saying it reminded me of a call from a telemarketer selling swampland in the Everglades. He said, "Well, it is a business, after all." I think most of us tend to forget that. Next time you see your doctor, keep in mind that your illnesses are how he feeds his family.

No comments:

Post a Comment

"Killing Eve" Is Killing Me

It's not news that we live in difficult times. Just a few months ago the New York Times wrote, "Long-term use of antidepressant...