For the last six years, I have been wrestling with this.
Today, I spent more than seven hours on four different tasks having to do with my overall health. Well, two of them were actual appointments, and the other two were errands to pick up medication.
It was a day full of revelations, frustrations, and a treat at the end.
Let’s go into this.
9 a.m. — I was at my cardiologist’s office, as we went over the result of an ultrasound which had taken place the week before.
Ultrasounds are an interesting construct, one with all sorts of sensations. I could still feel the cold sensation of the gel used to lubricate my skin as the sensor was run across my ribcage to get a good picture of various parts of my heart. I could also hear the blood rushing through my heart with various gurgling noises that emanated through the speaker of the ultrasound machine.
I also get the same kinds of sensations whenever the tech does an EKG on me, attaching leads to a dozen sensors which are stuck to my body with adhesive. Unlike the ultrasound, the EKG machine was silent, not making those ticking and beeping noises that are part and parcel of 1970s-era medical dramas.
As we discussed status, he put forth the possibility of a medication change. Less than three minutes after he pronounced the change, I felt a buzzing in my pocket. It was my iPhone, telling me that the doctor had put in for the new medication.
11 a.m. — Today was my 17th round of chemotherapy, which is just an injection into my hip that lasts for three months. It took place three floors below where the cardiologist’s office, in the same building located next to the county hospital.
Afterwards, I went to the small lab in the doctor’s office for bloodwork. I felt another buzz in my pocket. Another message on my iPhone, with the necessary barcode for me to check into the pharmacy to get the new heart medication.
I remarked to the phlebotomist on duty that one day, patients like me could have the opportunity to have some kind of implanted device to read my levels of various minerals, hormones, or lipids in my bloodstream.
“They do that for diabetics,” she told me. “If they do that for everything else, I might be out of a job.”
With a red arm wrap to match my shirt, I was off to lunch, which was also in the same building where my first two appontments were.
2 p.m. — I went to the ground level of the same building to pick up my anti-cancer medication. It is a medication which you might have seen advertised during World Cup, Stanley Cup, or NBA Finals broadcasts. It is also a highly expensive drug, one which makes a medical consumer have to make critical decisions as to the level of health insurance one will have to carry, or whether to move jobs or even residences in order to attain better health care coverage on the pharmaceutical side.
“Mr. Mattei?” the receptionist called. “We need to call the delivery driver. We don’t seem to have your medication.”
Great, I thought. I had received another text earlier in the day, saying I should report to the office to pick up the medication after 2 p.m. Might as well occupy myself until they figure out where the delivery is.
I made myself a cup of tea at the Keurig machine located in the lobby as I counted the number of people waiting for afternoon appointments at the oncologists’ office. It was overloaded with perhaps two dozen cancer patients or their helpers. Many were older than me, wobbling behind walkers or being pushed by wheelchairs, waiting to get through the magnetically locked side door to the medical theater.
A few minutes later, at least two more patients arrived to look to pick up their promised medication. That seemed to grease the wheels. The medication, which had arrived earlier in the day, was picked out, packaged, and signed for. I was on my way.
3:30 p.m. — I was at the pharmacy to pick up my other prescribed medication from the cardiologist. It is a major American pharmacy chain which is famous for its sales receipts, which sometimes have coupons attached.
I noticed that, because of my new prescription, I had a $2 coupon. I wandered the aisles of the pharmacy looking for interesting stuff, noting some World Cup merchandise and some other knick-knacks which I really didn’t need.
Next to the cashier area was the food aisle and a display of breakfast cereals. Some of them were marked down to $1.99.
Sold.
I guess a free breakfast tomorrow is not too much to ask after my errands today.