LET'S GET PHYSICAL
This column originally appeared on Wicked Local.

 

I rarely see doctors.  I don’t usually have the need.  A pill regimen to me constitutes taking a daily vitamin.  That is, if I remember to take it.  Cats cause me to suffer asthma type allergy symptoms, and because I do not have a cat, this is of little concern.  I do, however, have an emergency inhaler for those times when I find myself at someone else’s house and they have a cat.  My need for the inhaler is so infrequent that sometimes years pass by without using it all.     

This past February, however, I began to suffer from cat allergy symptoms.  I could not breathe freely.   To the best of my knowledge, I had not been in contact with an actual cat, but I was thankful to be able to turn to my emergency inhaler for relief.    

If you have been following this column, you know that my wife and I recently adopted a yellow lab.  My first thought was that my trouble breathing had been caused by the dog.  Using my emergency inhaler more than I should and continuing to suffer, I called my doctor’s office for a back-up inhaler prescription just in case the first one ran out.  They refused, saying that I must come in for a physical exam.  I tried to reason with the receptionist, explaining that I was having trouble breathing.  She claimed that it would be “negligent” of them to offer me another inhaler before I was able to come in for a physical.  I was under the impression that my trouble breathing was a problem they would take seriously, and wondered if they would demand an appointment for a physical exam if I had called in complaining of chest pains.  I was informed that I had not been in for a routine physical since the summer of 2015, and that my doctor would not refill my prescription for an emergency inhaler until I showed up for my annual exam.  I actually saw my doctor many times last fall for precautionary follow-up visits after a mysterious vertigo experience that resulted in an ambulance ride from work and an uncomfortable overnight stay at South Shore Hospital where I was forced to endure every test imaginable.  I left South Shore Hospital having learned one crucial piece of health-related information:  they make an excellent chicken salad sandwich.  The only way I was going to be able to see or communicate with my doctor was to schedule a physical exam or have him attend my funeral (for which a referral is also necessary). 

I had to take medical matters into my own hands.  I went to a local Health Stop where they saw me immediately, identified that I was wheezing like a migrating bird from the film Winged Migration, and connected me to a nebulizer in an effort to clear the proverbial air.   Within hours, I felt significantly better and the need to even think about an inhaler faded away. 

Per my wife’s request, I made an appointment with a local allergist.  I was given a full battery of tests to identify the cause of the breathing troubles that were now in the distant past.  Although it was impossible to tell what had truly affected me during that specific week in February, the allergist was happy to confirm that it had not been the dog, claiming that Hannah (the yellow lab) “would go on to live another day.” 

Weeks later I got a call from the allergist’s office notifying me that they had yet to receive the expected referral from my doctor.  I called my primary care physician’s office.  The same receptionist I had originally exchanged verbal barbs with curtly reminded me that nothing would be done until I came in for a physical.  I told her that I had actually self-remedied my breathing problem by going to Health Stop and then to an allergist and that I was simply looking for a referral.  She seemed offended, telling me that I can’t just be seen by whoever I want, whenever I want. 

I now felt compelled to talk to my doctor in person, and I knew that the only way I was going to be able to see him was to make an appointment for a physical exam.  I went to the office personally to schedule the appointment so that the receptionists in the office could see me as the professional that I am and not the inhaler junkie that they apparently believed I was during our phone conversations.  

I went in for my physical and talked to my primary care physician who apologized profusely for what he termed as an unfortunate mix-up. 

I left the appointment after receiving a sincere apology from my doctor, a physical exam in which I was given an extremely clean bill of health, and the emergency inhaler prescription that I had originally sought months before.  The doctor even agreed to forward the necessary referral to the allergist who had been waiting in anticipation for this required paperwork.  Overall, it was a productive day. 

I ecstatic to put this medical bureaucracy behind me, although I did get a call from the allergist the very next day informing me that they had yet to receive a referral from my primary care physician. 

I must be due for another physical.