Bitch Didn’t Even Suffer

This afternoon, I saw the family doctor. I should’ve known how everything would be going by the fact that it was raining. (Raining when I’m outside is a bad sign and a major anxiety point for me.) Of course, I’m not always that bright.

When I got there, I didn’t have to wait long to get called to the back. This gave me a false sense of security and helped me to forget that only minutes earlier, I had seen the most incompetent bitchy nurse coming in. When I was called, it was the new Miss Incompetent RN. I weighed, and it appears that it hasn’t gone up…or down. My blood pressure was the real “fun part” The nurse, who has fucked up my blood pressure before (when they were checking for postural BP issues related to vertigo & tachycardia), used the regular adult cuff on the lower part of my arm. Since I think I’m smart and stuff, I told her, “that’s too small and it’s not going to be accurate.” She replied, “this cuff is the proper size for this part of your arm.” (My lower arms [like the rest of me] are larger than the average person’s.) I said, “it’ll be wrong. Small cuffs cause bad readings.” She scoffed and acted like she knew better because she got a nursing degree. (Nurses should know better, but that doesn’t mean they do.) When the machine read it, it was 150 over 100. I knew that was BS since I didn’t have a headache. So, when the doctor came in, after examining my knee (and asking if I had arthritis—probably due to the fun crackling thing they do), she asked if I typically have a problem with my blood pressure. I said, “Only that it tends to run low.” (Since this is something that has been stated by people who deal with heart, pregnant, and pre-op patients, I think it’s probably the more educated stance.) She checked it. She got the biggest cuff and put it on my upper arm. I thought she couldn’t find it the first two times. She ended up getting a different cuff and checked the other arm. When she finally accepted that it was 120 over 70, she said, “It is on the low side.” This was apparently surprising, as it typically is. (I guess fat people=high blood pressure, kind of like fat people=diabetes.) So, she was less concerned about the high reading. (Staff incompetence isn’t anything she has control over.)

My family doctor told me that I need to take 600 milligrams of Ibuprofen. I told her I would. I have learned not to argue with doctors about anti-inflammatories. They are even more anal about having their reasoning questioned than the incompetent nurse. I won’t take the Ibuprofen. I don’t particularly want to take something that messes with my stomach that badly. So, I won’t take it, but I won’t tell her that.

About Janet Morris

I'm from Huntsville, Alabama. I've got as many college credits as a doctorate candidate, and the GPA of some of them, too. I have a boss by the name of Amy Pond. She's a dachshund. My parents both grew up in Alabama.