Michael Moores SICKO premiers June 29 nationwide. Might have to get off my pimply ass and go. Been going through the “meddy-go-round” myself this month.
Found a lump just above my unit while showering four weeks ago. Two doctors visits and sixty dollars later, all I know is the doctor thinks it’s a hernia, but now he’s not sure.
The nurse checked my blood pressure, weighed me, took some blood. All the doctor did was poke my lump with a rubber-gloved finger and go: “Hmm.” No X-rays; no “cat-scan” No nothing. Wait; I take that back. Nothing! I get more for my money from my dentist.
Now I’ve got a visit planned Monday with a surgeon. Now, I’m just a patient and I know he out-ranks me, but I’m going to talk to the surgeon about these things first.
The very thought of surgery makes me feel faint. I’m also well, more than a little scared. Been under the knife before no less than two times I can remember but I can still feel my stomach crawling up my throat when I think about it. And I don’t have to think about it very hard. X-rays don’t require anaesthesia; I can do them just fine. Let’s give X-rays a chance before carving me up. I’ve got plenty of scars, thank you.
They’ve got “cat-scan” machines at the county hospital. How come unemployed people on welfare get access to these and working people ( who actually pay for their healthcare) dont? I’ve paid out a countless amount of money over the years for health insurance. I figure I deserve better than being treated like a hypochondriac. Sometimes I suspect that if they stall long enough, they’re gambling on you croaking first.
When I drive the safety belt rubs right over the lump; ow! I’ve also noticed that when I get stressed out, mad or angry it flares up.
So what gives? Is something internally going to rupture or burst? Implode? Explode? Or is something inside fixing to just quit working? If I dropped dead tomorrow, how long would it take anyone to notice?
Am I scared? Hell yes I’m scared. I’m terrified if you really want to know.
No one should have to live like this; no one. I wouldn’t wish this dread on my worst enemy. I wouldn’t want to watch, honest. There’s nothing to relish.
I’m no saint, but I really don’t think I deserve this either. The weekend’s here but I can’t relax. Can’t loosen up. My stomach feels like raw bread dough in a fist. Can’t sleep except when I’m exhausted. Look at me; I’m turning into Dr. Smith: “Oh the pain!”
Hope you enjoy your weekend.