Slow day. No one’s answering their phones and no one’s returning my calls. I voted, and now I’m running to BorgHealth to get some lab work done. Scary to think that losing blood to the vultures at BorgHealth could end up being the highlight of my day.
Yay for Pain Meds!
Dizzy and drowsy makes for such interesting legal drafting. Not to mention what the wrist brace is doing for my typing.
Being all achy finally got to me, so I went to BorgHealth this morning for professional advice. I got drugs, toys AND referrals. The trifecta. Winner, winner.
Maybe a little forced convalescence will help in the long run though, and let me get back to regular swimming and a life sooner or later.
State of the Onion
Really, when I start to get below the surface it just makes me cry.
To build a future of quality health care, we must trust patients and doctors to make medical decisions and empower them with better information and better options. We share a common goal: making health care more affordable and accessible for all Americans. The best way to achieve that goal is by expanding consumer choice, not government control. So I have proposed ending the bias in the tax code against those who do not get their health insurance through their employer. This one reform would put private coverage within reach for millions, and I call on the Congress to pass it this year. The Congress must also expand health savings accounts, create Association Health Plans for small businesses, promote health information technology and confront the epidemic of junk medical lawsuits. With all these steps, we will help ensure that decisions about your medical care are made in the privacy of your doctor’s office — not in the halls of Congress. – President George W. Bush, January 28, 2008
Pretty words. Kinda like the faux wood paneling at Borghealth – completely innocuous and intended to make you forget you’re in a room with a bunch of sick people.
So let’s talk about consumer choice instead of government control under President Bush’s reality.
Consumer choice as long as a woman doesn’t choose to abort a pregnancy.
Consumer choice as long as you don’t follow your doctor’s recommendation for medical marijuana.
Consumer choice as long as your treatment isn’t derived from stem cell research.
Consumer choice as long as your medications are Made (and priced) in the U.S.A.
Consumer choice as long as your health insurance coverage isn’t based on a same-sex marriage.
Consumer choice as long as Oregon consumers don’t choose death with dignity.
And of course, consumer choice, but buyer beware, because there shouldn’t be any redress against malpractice by your private sector, privately chosen, medical services supplier.
As someone who paid $3108 (plus co-pays) for the pleasure of being a member of BorgHealth last year, I did like the tax break talk though. I always like tax break talk. Almost as much as I like free drink talk. I’m just not sure how much more consumer choice I can take from the federal government. At this rate I could end up like poor Terry Schiavo.
In fairness, I detest the crowd that would deny me treatment based on animal research just as much – I just can’t pin that one on the current administration.
‘It Doesn’t Get Much Better Than Zero’
Visited BorgHealth this afternoon for the periodic check on the nuclear power nodes. Gotta make certain the containment field keeping the mutating mutinous cells that tried to take over the world from their 70s-retro Headquarters in my prostate is still working. I was expecting the anti-drone, my really cool urologist, to break out the big probe. At least slap some lube and latex around and see what’s going on behind the radioactive seeds that keep humanity safe. Instead we talked about my bloodwork, talked about BorgHealth’s new computers, talked about holiday travel, talked about the choice back in 2003 of surgery versus radiation, talked about the impact of a dead prostate on my life, and called it a week. Labs in six months, lets chat next November. All because I passed a blood test I didn’t even study for.
I’ll never get over the sense of dread in anticipating these visits. No idea what the surviving cells within the radioactive containment might be mutating into. Someone will probably say gay transforming robots. In my nightmares I usually envision it as the thing battling the Atom in the opening pages of The Dark Knight Strikes Again. Regardless, what we can’t detect won’t kill me this year – here’s to four years of successful whatever it is that’s happening in there.
The Cold Touch Of The Surgeonbot
Thinking about BorgHealth today. Nothing in particular, other than my shoulder being sore where the drone gave me the
flu flu shot yesterday.
Then this article pops up on the aggregator.
Robot surgeons. To someone who can’t even face the prospect of a robot poolboy that’s a scary concept. Forget Iraq and Mars though – what will happen when BorgHealth decides they cost less than humans?
Playing Possum? Zombie-Tumor?
We’ve killed a lot of the tumors. Now we’re waiting to see what the cancer is going to do. Where it’s going to strike next. It’s not an immediate threat right now. If there’s a growth spurt, or a lot of new tumors show up suddenly, then we’ll react. We’ll fire back. But in the meantime, we wait.
Listening to NPR this morning I caught one of Leroy Sievers’ reports on his battle with cancer. Loved the analogy.
Next week it will have been four years since my own little carcinoma got nuked, along with the rest of my innards. I hope and pray it’s dead, but the reality is that I don’t know. To keep with Sievers’ analogy, I want to go kick the body and make certain, but that’s not an option. Actually I really want to dismember the beast, immerse the parts in acid, cremate whatever elements remain after that and then shoot the ashes into a black hole. Just to make sure, yaknow? But those aren’t options either. I settle for going back to BorgHealth every six months and letting them kick the body, so to speak. Yep, not moving, PSA normal, go home and don’t think about it. Yeah, right. Never take your eyes off the thing.
Using What One Has
After a slow business week caused by the distractions of hunger pangs and BorgHealth probing I was all intent on jumping back into work today. But the weather is beautiful, the stomach is still queasy, there are no deadlines immediately imminent, and damnit, I can procrastinate. It’s a skill I’m proud of. Besides, I think my favorite pair of boxers have been lost to the caustic bleaching of barium farts. A reasonable period of mourning must take place.
There are few advantages to self-employment. They certainly don’t include regular paychecks or access to pilferable office supplies. The ability to manipulate time and space by pushing work into that space on the side of the desk and saying ‘I’ll do that next week’ is about all I’ve got. One must use the powers one has.
Too Nice Outside
Beautiful day, but since I got my swim in this morning, I’m inside trying to be good. Trying to be disciplined. Trying to be professional. But no one I’m trying to reach is reachable. No one’s returned my calls since yesterday morning. I think it’s a conspiracy. They’re going to bury me in a deluge of voice- and e-mail tomorrow morning while BorgHealth has me strapped to the table for the ‘scoping. What a way to end the week.
OK, the drugging went remarkably well. About six hours after Thursday’s second post I was told I was still as ‘high as a kite.’ Which explains why I hadn’t been able to siesta on Thursday afternoon, how I managed three posts in one day, and probably the photoshopped poolboy pic too. Still have a bit of a sore throat whenever the Tylenol levels get a tad low, and I’m spending too much time looking at the grey patch in the back of my throat with a mirror, just because I’m disgusting like that, but things are going better. Made up for the bouncy Thursday by crashing hard Friday, and am keeping the weekend nice and quiet so far.
Superpig Fights Cancer
As much as we both like dead pig cooked in a wide variety of manners, I was going to ignore the recent news articles about the possibility of a healthier, bio-engineered pig. Kinda thought the hype about a healthier greasy meat product was a bit pathetic. Kinda like the ads referring to chewing tobacco as a safer nicotine delivery system.
Then I got one of my little e-mail newsletters from the National Prostate Cancer Foundation. Lo and behold, their lead story this week was drawing the link between the added Omega 3-whatevers produced by the newer, shinier pigs, and recent research in those same Omega 3-whatevers in helping “prevent the spread of aggressive prostate cancer to other parts of the body.”
I like bacon and ham. And pork chops and ribs. Lots of pig parts make good eating. To the extent possible, they are all beloved and essential parts of Malnutrition 2006™, the official diet of Howling Point. I certainly would have preferred to go into an all-bacon regimen then do the radiation thing. I would have loved to have BorgHealth filling my weekly prescription for McRibs. I’ll bet it’s even Atkins-friendly. But it still comes across wrong. And while I never thought I’d say this about any pork product, it comes comes across as a bit tasteless.