doctor

Feb
2012
28

posted by on amputee, body, disability

3 comments

One of the by-products of my recent-ish divorce is that I just barely got my own health insurance policy.  It’s the first time that I’ve had insurance on my own (not as the result of being a dependent of someone else), and seems a pretty big step for me in being financially and legally independent.

So recently I saw my new doctor for the first time.  I went specifically to get a prescription for some changes to my prosthesis.  When we met I explained to him exactly what I needed, gave him the contact info for my prosthetist, etc.  I didn’t expect for him to examine me, nor did I even sit on the exam table in the room.  Also, when he queried me about whether I was up to date on my vaccinations, I could tell that my reply left him a little bit speechless.

“How do you know so much about this stuff? He asked as he gestured to a screen on his computer showing checkboxes for my immunization record–just after I’d given him a 10-minute spiel about the Tdap vaccine.

“I’m a medical historian, with a strong research interest in resurgent disease.” I replied.

I must say, there’s something about going into a doc’s office with some confidence, knowing exactly what I need and how to get it, that tends to offset any anxiety that I feel from having had so much medical trauma in the past.  Perhaps it’s a bit intimidating for the physicians that I interact with–but I think they tend to find it rather refreshing among the garden-variety sore throats and coughs that they see all day long…

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3 comments

  1. janaremy
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