|Jan-Feb '03 | briefing | mail | don't say this | flakers' jargon | flaker creativity | articles | other places | archives | send mail | ed dewke | legal stuff | order | search | ©2001 Ed Dewke|
Docs Play Good Wizard
It has been a while since I have written but I had a
"new" experience with a derm yesterday and I had to share.
I went to a new derm yesterday in hopes of finding one that is
willing to take risks and is current with treatments.
Here are some of her comments to me:
have had a patient on this rotational shampoos
for years now and his psoriasis has not come back.
I get to use 3 different shampoos, rotating every day.
I had to laugh as I checked out at the drug store yesterday.
It looked like my derm couldn't make up her mind.
After telling her I was on Temovate
and it didn't work: That's ok. It
will work in the right regimen, so just follow mine.
even looking at my severity, she said: I have just the treatment for
you, have you heard of the patch therapy?
Patch therapy is rotational
steroidal ointments [applied several times during a 24-hour period].
I have 40% coverage, mostly on my back.
So I’m sure, I will just wake up the family at 2 a.m. in order to
have someone smear this stuff on my back.
I mentioned I was part of a drug study for an immunosuppressant drug, and
that it was working, she said: Intravenous medications are done at the
hospital by another derm. What
we’ll have you use here is just as good and not as harsh.
I.e. the patch therapy.
After my 10
minute first visit I wanted to throw her through a wall.
And by the way, did I mention the resident intern who was her
shadow? I wonder what kind of
doctor that intern will become? Thanks
for the room to vent. –Kelly Z.
Response: Good to hear from
you, Kelly. I know from your
years of dropping by FlakeHQ that you are no novice to the derm/flaker
routine. As I read your points
of exchange during this visit I cringed repeatedly. I felt sorry for the
poor intern who might have been smart enough to sense you wanted to ...
well ... throw the good doctor through a wall, as you so elegantly put it.
I think it is
stereotypic of some doctors to put on their Good Wizard personalities when
towing around an apprentice (intern).
They are trying to impress the newbie with the importance of good
bedside manner, but they overstate something awful.
They behave like clowns wearing size 50 shoes and bulbous bright
red rubber noses.
greased myself into telling this story (pun intentional, as will become
clear). It doesn’t have
anything to do with my derms or my P, but it is a doctor-intern-patient
story. It was a routine
physical exam by my GP-at-the-time — a man — who happened to be
herding a young male intern around that day.
At the onset of the consult I was told the intern’s name and we
exchanged hellos, then my doctor and I behaved (or set out to) as though
the intern weren’t there.
But my doctor
blew it by assuming that Good Wizard act.
Edward, you KNOW how important the digital prostate exam is.
Here, if I recall, he actually wriggled his index finger at me,
like a parent gesturing “no no,” or “tsk tsk.”
But of course the gesture took on all sorts of added significance
in this context.
All I could do
was scowl while the doctor flamboyantly snapped on the latex glove and
applied KY Jelly to his rubbered finger like laying a line of toothpaste
on the brush. He smiled at me
and said, Now just lean over the
examination table, Edward. I
was complying when I heard him chuckle quietly and say — perhaps to me,
perhaps to the intern — It’s
always so tempting at this point to say “Assume the position.”
emasculating acts of doctors upon their male patients are uncomfortable
but quick. In ... quick digit
spin ... out fast and ... What did
you think of the 49ers last Sunday?
I’ve sometimes wondered what in the world they can detect so
quickly? But my doctor was
impressing an intern this day — playing Good Wizard — and he took
considerably longer. His
intromission was fast and breathtaking, as usual, then the spin ... but
then another spin ... and another....
I had time to
think, and that was his mistake. I
said, while the spinning was in progress, “Doc?” He
went, Hmmmm? And
I said, “Would you like to go dancing Friday night?”
I hadn’t even finished dotting the question mark at the end of
the sentence when he jerked out his diagnostical digit and almost backed
into the intern who was trying desperately not to explode.
I’ve so few stories about getting the better of a doctor, I
can’t pass up the slightest provocation to share that one.
I hope for your
sake, Kelly, that you’ve found another derm.
Be good. –Ed