Ol' Hillmomba

Farmer H is having a devil of a time getting treatment for his unhealthiness. If he knew what was wrong, he could just take something, right? Or do a little cutting on himself. He has plenty of knives. That seems to be the attitude of his health care providers. 

 

For almost six weeks, Farmer H has been feeling poorly. His stomach hurts on the right side. It keeps him awake at night. He says he feels full of gas. Or poop! The pain comes and goes. Nothing seems to help it. Of course, being a VALEDICTORIAN, a fan of ER, and a former gallbladder owner, I diagnosed him with gallstones. Or maybe chronic inflammation of the gallbladder. But I can't prescribe medicine, and I can't cut him open. Can you believe that? With MY qualifications! 

Anyhoo... about the same time, Farmer H also started having pains in his left arm. Up by the shoulder. Then it moved down his arm. To his wrist and hand. Causing him a loss of strength. Then a loss of circulation, resulting in a cold hand. He thinks it might be a nerve issue, since he's had surgery on his vertebrae, and had a titanium plate put in his neck. He says that's what it feels like.

Of course I couldn't rule out a heart issue. But even without my concern, Farmer H made an appointment with his nurse practitioner. She only works ONE DAY A WEEK. So that kind of limited his chances of a timely appointment. On the day he went to the office, she saw him walking in.

"What are YOU doing here?"

"I'm sick."

"Oh, no! You shouldn't be here!"

"Isn't this a doctor's office? Do you only see WELL people? I don't have nothin'. I'm here because I have a problem."

How kind of her to actually keep his appointment, and order tests. A blood test for possible heart attack enzymes and gallbladder issues. An ultrasound. A stress test. And an EEG. All on different days, of course.

Farmer H waited and waited. Nobody called with results. At his regular shot appointment on Fridays (yes, that's plural), he'd ask about his tests. The nurse giving his shot would say she couldn't tell him anything, he'd have to talk to his nurse practitioner. But she'd go and look at the tests. And say his NP hadn't seen them yet. But she'd make eyes when SHE looked at the ultrasound. The second or third Friday, she said she shouldn't say anything, but the left side of Farmer H's heart looked weird in the ultrasound. 

With his pushing, she DID go show it to the DOCTOR, who said it wasn't anything he was concerned with. Anyhoo... somehow they discovered, after FOUR WEEKS, that the blood sample never made it to the lab. Good thing Farmer H wasn't having a heart attack! I was about to, over this shoddy treatment. Anyhoo... the NP called him the next week, and sent him back for another ultrasound. And to give more blood. I'm pretty sure that Farmer H's medicare is paying twice for these double tests. Isn't that a scam? Or are they just waiting for him to die before they find out what of?

Anyhoo... Farmer H finally got an appointment with his NP for today (Tuesday) to go over the blood tests and ultrasound. The EEG did not show a problem. So... Farmer H waited all weekend. He made a list of 11 questions on the back of an envelope (so organized for Farmer H) to ask the NP. 

ONLY TO GET A CALL MONDAY THAT HE COULDN'T COME IN!

Seriously. The office manager said they were not seeing patients. That they were worried about the FLU OUTBREAK. What in the Not-Heaven? Flu in Missouri is sporadic, according to every state health website I've checked. Aren't doctors and nurse practitioners in the BUSINESS OF SEEING SICK PEOPLE? There goes my blood boiling again!

Anyhoo... Farmer H was told that he could have a teleconference with his NP. You know the state of our SPRINT cell phone service here at the Mansion. So Farmer H drove up to his Storage Unit Store parking lot for his appointment. The enzymes from his blood tests show gallbladder involvement, but the ultrasound does not show a diseased gallbladder. Only some stones. So now Farmer H has to wait for a referral to a surgeon to see if he needs surgery for his gallbladder.

Oh, and he might need to see a neurologist for the shoulder pain. I guess it's time to hurry up and wait again. I know it took at least 6 weeks from his original appointment to find this out. All the while in pain. Still in pain. 

They ARE letting him come inside the building on Friday, for his weekly shot, and to take more blood, for his A1C, which was supposed to be on the day of his teleconference appointment in the office.

Even I feel bad for Farmer H. So I've written him a song. Mostly. Kind of. More like copied...

OL' HILLMOMBA

 

I come from Ol' Hillmomba with a pain in my belly

I'm goin' to my doctor's office, nurse practitioner for to see

Ol' Hillmomba, oh don't you cry for me

I know this gal will fix me up, or she ain't no NP

 

She made a face when I arrived, and asked if I was sick

Then said she thought that I should leave, oh what a dirty trick

Ol' Hillmomba, oh don't you cry for me

I'll get some tests, some medicine, and on the mend I'll be

Four weeks went by, with ne'er a word, I was not up to par

They said they found my blood was lost, now isn't that bizarre

Ol' Hillmomba, oh don't you cry for me

I gave some more, which proved me sick, and I sure did agree

Repeat more tests, and charge more fees, I felt like a cash cow

All to require a specialist, but will he see me now

Ol' Hillmomba, start squirtin' tears for me

Nobody seems to care if I am dyin' or healthy