Farm News 11-20-05
Sunday morning, after chores, 44°
A Visit to the Doctor
Thursday, I went to the Doctor's Office, a Doctor of Medicine in this case, to confess and be absolved. Mevacor is a drug designed to reduce cholesterol. I don't know what it has done to my cholesterol but I do know that it makes my lower back ache. So, I quit taking it; hence the need for confession and absolution and a trip to the Milkweed covered halls of Medicine.
Dr. E., the physician I see, is young. The only reason I put up with him is that he has guaranteed to keep me alive to 114. His wife is also a physician and much better looking but not foolish enough to promise me I will live to 114. Also, there is the prostate problem. I don't have a prostate problem, but all proper physicians insist that men over 60 should have an annual prostate examination. A gentlemen does not enjoy bending over a table with his pants around his ankles while a young woman examines his prostate, even if it is part of a professional service.
Dr. E. and Dr. P., his wife, work in separate practices. The clinic in which Dr. P. works is bright and sunny with plants and a friendly staff. They do not make appointments for more than 24 hours in advance. They use digital medical records and should be able to identify every patient with cardiovascular problems who has been taking a COXX-2 inhibitor within two seconds.
The clinic which I endure to see Dr. E. makes an undertaker's parlor look cheerful. I once asked Dr. E. if he had ever walked into his clinic through the front door, the one the patients use. He never had. (I think that something they do in medical school affects their minds.) The staff are hidden behind closed windows and are not encouraged to interact with the patients. It is difficult to obtain an appointment within five days. They use paper records and could identify every patient with cardiovascular problems who has been taking a COXX-2 inhibitor if they had five years to search the records.
Dr. E.'s patients mostly seem to be like me, mainly geriatric, as are those of the rest of the practice, yet the clinic is poorly designed for accommodating geriatric patients. I can't send his nurse an email telling her that I quit taking Mevacor because she doesn't have email at the office. That is archaic. Computer mediated communications are important to most seniors today. Those young whippersnappers in that practice have the audacity to assume that I am unable to use email discreetly.
Have you ever seen any of the popular TV program called ER? The ER stands for Emergency Room, but I think it should be DBH for Doctors Behaving Badly. Why on earth would they want to gather up in bunches like that? It appears to me that if you have more than three physicians in a room then the chances are high that six nasty disagreements will immediately start.
The same thing applies to clinics. Why does Dr. E. want to gang up with a bunch of other docs like that? He could have a nice office up here in Jefferson County for a lot less money and hassle. As I said, something they do in medical school affects their minds. Running up a huge debt might be part of it.
Why do I have to go to town to see him? I am considerably his elder and he should be honored to be able to come out here and see to my health. If he lived in Oskaloosa or Ozawkie and had a good mule, he could ride out to see his patients, and then let the mule take him home while he reads. He could use more reading, he needs some better lines.
After confession and absolution I mentioned to him that I had an itchy rash, and showed him a patch. Dr. E. peered at it closely for a bit, then said, “Hmm,” twice, followed by, “It appears to be urticaria. Let's see if it goes away soon.” Urticaria is doc talk for an itchy rash. For that kind of advice I need an M.D.?
Meanwhile, Back at the Barn
Bump is fun to have around. He has lasted far longer than I expected, and the longer he survives, the greater will be his chances of surviving longer yet. Trusty caught him twice this week and then released him undamaged. That is interesting behavior. The dog is training the rabbit to become more elusive while the rabbit helps the dog improve his prey catching skills.
Ting, the only remaining member of the Somerset Twins, famed stars of stage, screen, and barn, is being a pain in the backside. She has decided to live with the turkeys. She roosts on the wisteria arbor with them and waits at their feed bowl with them twice a day, even if there is still some food in it from the last feeding. When I bring the feed she attacks, pecking my ankles as I approach and then pecking my wrists as I pour out the feed.
One night this week the temperature was predicted to drop to 16°, which it did, so I decided that light-weight little Ting should spend the night in the barn. I picked her off the roost, carried her in, and set her on a nice spot on a stall door where she has roosted previously. When I returned the next morning I found her on top of the cat feeder. She had also scratched all the cat food out of the feeder and then pooped in the tray.
It has snowed but the brown duck hen's ducklings didn't hatch. Maybe they are waiting for even worse weather. I hope they hatch soon. When birds set on eggs they don't poop, not until they get off the nest. The longer they stay on the nest the more they poop and the worse it smells when they get off. Friday morning that duck left a stream of duck poop about three feet long through the barn and it stunk so bad it about drove me out of the barn.
Saturday afternoon I put in the tank heater for the goldfish. It's a ridiculous waste of energy but fun. I think they could stay under ice for most of the winter. The heater comes on at about 40° and, in moderate weather, is able to keep the goldfish barrel fairly clear of ice. Occasionally I shut it off, either by intent or accident, and a cover of ice develops. If I keep it clear until there is a very cold night, and then turn off the heater, a layer of very clear ice develops with the fish clearly visible underneath.
News Flash! Baby Ducks!
Saturday morning the brown hen duck had an eggshell in front of her nest, the shell neatly clipped into two pieces. The ducklings are hatching. I closed her into the stall where her nest is located and gave her water and baby duck food in the stall. They'll do fine as long as they are penned up inside with their mother.
Walking on Water
Several people have reminded me that I was to explain walking on water this week and that they were looking forward to reading it. Well, they need to learn patience, one of the prerequisites for learning to walk on water. I didn't think that an essay on walking on water would fit in with the comments about physicians and their habitats.
E-mail Subscribers: To subscribe, unsubscribe, contribute stories, complain or send a gift subscription, send an email to FarmNews@GeezerNet.com . The editor reserves the right to steal ideas submitted, rewrite submissions, and sign false names to them whenever it strikes his fancy to do so.
A Visit to the Doctor
Thursday, I went to the Doctor's Office, a Doctor of Medicine in this case, to confess and be absolved. Mevacor is a drug designed to reduce cholesterol. I don't know what it has done to my cholesterol but I do know that it makes my lower back ache. So, I quit taking it; hence the need for confession and absolution and a trip to the Milkweed covered halls of Medicine.
Dr. E., the physician I see, is young. The only reason I put up with him is that he has guaranteed to keep me alive to 114. His wife is also a physician and much better looking but not foolish enough to promise me I will live to 114. Also, there is the prostate problem. I don't have a prostate problem, but all proper physicians insist that men over 60 should have an annual prostate examination. A gentlemen does not enjoy bending over a table with his pants around his ankles while a young woman examines his prostate, even if it is part of a professional service.
Dr. E. and Dr. P., his wife, work in separate practices. The clinic in which Dr. P. works is bright and sunny with plants and a friendly staff. They do not make appointments for more than 24 hours in advance. They use digital medical records and should be able to identify every patient with cardiovascular problems who has been taking a COXX-2 inhibitor within two seconds.
The clinic which I endure to see Dr. E. makes an undertaker's parlor look cheerful. I once asked Dr. E. if he had ever walked into his clinic through the front door, the one the patients use. He never had. (I think that something they do in medical school affects their minds.) The staff are hidden behind closed windows and are not encouraged to interact with the patients. It is difficult to obtain an appointment within five days. They use paper records and could identify every patient with cardiovascular problems who has been taking a COXX-2 inhibitor if they had five years to search the records.
Dr. E.'s patients mostly seem to be like me, mainly geriatric, as are those of the rest of the practice, yet the clinic is poorly designed for accommodating geriatric patients. I can't send his nurse an email telling her that I quit taking Mevacor because she doesn't have email at the office. That is archaic. Computer mediated communications are important to most seniors today. Those young whippersnappers in that practice have the audacity to assume that I am unable to use email discreetly.
Have you ever seen any of the popular TV program called ER? The ER stands for Emergency Room, but I think it should be DBH for Doctors Behaving Badly. Why on earth would they want to gather up in bunches like that? It appears to me that if you have more than three physicians in a room then the chances are high that six nasty disagreements will immediately start.
The same thing applies to clinics. Why does Dr. E. want to gang up with a bunch of other docs like that? He could have a nice office up here in Jefferson County for a lot less money and hassle. As I said, something they do in medical school affects their minds. Running up a huge debt might be part of it.
Why do I have to go to town to see him? I am considerably his elder and he should be honored to be able to come out here and see to my health. If he lived in Oskaloosa or Ozawkie and had a good mule, he could ride out to see his patients, and then let the mule take him home while he reads. He could use more reading, he needs some better lines.
After confession and absolution I mentioned to him that I had an itchy rash, and showed him a patch. Dr. E. peered at it closely for a bit, then said, “Hmm,” twice, followed by, “It appears to be urticaria. Let's see if it goes away soon.” Urticaria is doc talk for an itchy rash. For that kind of advice I need an M.D.?
Meanwhile, Back at the Barn
Bump is fun to have around. He has lasted far longer than I expected, and the longer he survives, the greater will be his chances of surviving longer yet. Trusty caught him twice this week and then released him undamaged. That is interesting behavior. The dog is training the rabbit to become more elusive while the rabbit helps the dog improve his prey catching skills.
Ting, the only remaining member of the Somerset Twins, famed stars of stage, screen, and barn, is being a pain in the backside. She has decided to live with the turkeys. She roosts on the wisteria arbor with them and waits at their feed bowl with them twice a day, even if there is still some food in it from the last feeding. When I bring the feed she attacks, pecking my ankles as I approach and then pecking my wrists as I pour out the feed.
One night this week the temperature was predicted to drop to 16°, which it did, so I decided that light-weight little Ting should spend the night in the barn. I picked her off the roost, carried her in, and set her on a nice spot on a stall door where she has roosted previously. When I returned the next morning I found her on top of the cat feeder. She had also scratched all the cat food out of the feeder and then pooped in the tray.
It has snowed but the brown duck hen's ducklings didn't hatch. Maybe they are waiting for even worse weather. I hope they hatch soon. When birds set on eggs they don't poop, not until they get off the nest. The longer they stay on the nest the more they poop and the worse it smells when they get off. Friday morning that duck left a stream of duck poop about three feet long through the barn and it stunk so bad it about drove me out of the barn.
Saturday afternoon I put in the tank heater for the goldfish. It's a ridiculous waste of energy but fun. I think they could stay under ice for most of the winter. The heater comes on at about 40° and, in moderate weather, is able to keep the goldfish barrel fairly clear of ice. Occasionally I shut it off, either by intent or accident, and a cover of ice develops. If I keep it clear until there is a very cold night, and then turn off the heater, a layer of very clear ice develops with the fish clearly visible underneath.
News Flash! Baby Ducks!
Saturday morning the brown hen duck had an eggshell in front of her nest, the shell neatly clipped into two pieces. The ducklings are hatching. I closed her into the stall where her nest is located and gave her water and baby duck food in the stall. They'll do fine as long as they are penned up inside with their mother.
Walking on Water
Several people have reminded me that I was to explain walking on water this week and that they were looking forward to reading it. Well, they need to learn patience, one of the prerequisites for learning to walk on water. I didn't think that an essay on walking on water would fit in with the comments about physicians and their habitats.
E-mail Subscribers: To subscribe, unsubscribe, contribute stories, complain or send a gift subscription, send an email to FarmNews@GeezerNet.com . The editor reserves the right to steal ideas submitted, rewrite submissions, and sign false names to them whenever it strikes his fancy to do so.
posted by The Geezer at 9:04 AM
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