Is There A Doctor in the House?

Living on a mountain as I do, I am well aware that I am generally behind the times. That being said, at what point in time did it become normal to conduct long distance health care, as in, you don’t actually see a doctor-you, “video-conference?”

I missed the memo and therefore, the boat.

The Ukiah VA ain't fancy, but it is in Ukiah, not SF.

The last time I had been to the Ukiah VA for treatment, was sixteen months ago for my annual physical, which I have faithfully followed through on for the last fifteen years, ever since I turned fifty. You may be wondering, if the physical is annual, why sixteen months instead of twelve?

A funny thing happened when I called in March this year, to schedule my once-a-year maintenance check: I was told that my primary health care provider had saddled up, and moseyed on to greener pastures, leaving me bereft of a doctor. For some inexplicable reason, this seemed to throw a huge monkey wrench into the whole proceedings.

When I called in March I had spoken to someone I had never dealt with before named John. After he explained about Doctor Mulligan moving on, I told him I would try and cope, if he would just hook me up with another doctor so I could do my thing.

He said it wasn’t as easy as that because there were no other doctors on site that could squeeze me in. Whereas at first that might seem a personal problem for the facility, it ultimately became my personal problem. John wanted to know if I would call back at some undefined point in time in the future?

I said, “Sure thing, Bro!” and signed off, leaving matters in the hands of the gods. I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for that sweet Gluten-Free Mama, checking in with me recently, asking idly why I had not yet been for my annual physical.

Busted. 

I explained about the greener pastures and the logistical SNAFU, and my sweetest of apple blossoms nodded in full comprehension of what was coming down.

“Dr. Mulligan left? That’s too bad. I really liked her. So you need a new doctor. Call them up-things are bound to have settled down by now. After all, it’s been four months.” Let’s see now: How many months in real time, is four months of army time?

In lieu of flowers, please send coffee...

I called back to the clinic and this time I talked to someone else I had never conversed with before. Her name was Ann and she was most pleasant. When it was determined that I did indeed, now have a doctor assigned to me, I asked her for the earliest possible appointment in the day, even if it meant waiting longer on the calendar than normal for this to take place. Nine o’clock was the time I was given for the 16th, which was this past Monday.

Ann had told me that my doctor’s name was Cheng and that I should arrive for my nine o’clock appointment at 8:30. I did her fifteen minutes better and rolled in at 8:15, figuring it couldn’t hurt. As it turned out, it didn’t help either. In fact at 8:55 a woman came out of the front office and announced that the computers were down, and that if we had been waiting longer than ten minutes, we should speak up.

I moseyed up to the front window, and told Ann that I had been waiting forty minutes, so could she check things out? At 9:15 I was ushered back into one of the patient examining rooms, to have my vitals taken. I chatted with the nice nurse as she recorded my temperature, pulse rate and blood pressure.

She asked if I had tele-videoed before, and I said no. What she really asked was if I had video-conferenced, but processing oral information is my reverse claim to fame-I can’t do it. The subject of the tele-video came up again, and I informed the nurse that if at all possible, I would prefer to skip the film. She looked at me blankly.

She left and I waited a few more minutes until she came back, and told me that it was time to move to the other room for the televideo. I hesitated, as in I didn’t move. “I thought I didn’t have to watch the film,” I said, at which point she asked, “What film?”

“I don’t know! You are the one who keeps talking about a video.”

“No, not a film. Video conferencing. You know, when you talk to Dr. Cheng, but she’s in San Francisco.”

That woke me up. “My doctor is not here? She’s in San Francisco?” When I received confirmation, I stated flatly, “There is no way I am talking to a television. Just take my blood and I’ll be on my way. I don’t need to see a doctor.”

The nurse looked troubled. “I’m afraid you can’t have a blood draw if you don’t see the doctor.”

“See the doctor? How am I supposed to see the doctor when she’s in San Francisco?” I had her for about the blink of an eye, before she responded, “No one can have blood drawn without a doctor’s order.”

“But this my annual physical-why do I need to see a doctor for a routine blood draw?” 

As she vacated the premises, I looked at the clock: 9:30. At 9:40 I stood up, gathered my backpack and water thermos and strolled out into the hallway, heading for the EXIT. The whole thing was crazy. I wasn’t interested in teleconferencing with anyone, and I really didn’t even care about the whole physical-I was just going along with the program. 

On cue my nurse was back, her face registering nothing as she took in my departure mode. “I was just heading out,” I began, hoping my disarming smile would smooth matters out. “I have to tell you, this talking to a television is problematic for me.” She listened sympathetically. 

I plunged on. “I know it’s not your problem, but talking to a TV is never going to happen for a guy with a mood spectrum disorder. I have decided that I don’t even care about the blood draw. My temperature, pulse and blood pressure are all good to go. That being the case I’ll just be on my way. I will come back next year.

Oh. Boy.

She seemed to come to some sort of decision, even as we stood there in the hall, and she told me to follow her. We went into the room where the nice nurse always does the blood draw. I looked at my nurse questioningly, and she motioned me into the chair and went to talk to the vampire nurse.

I recognized her from past visits, and when my gal had left, I went so far as to greet her the way I always do, “All right! I am in good hands now. Every time I have ever had blood drawn, you have done an awesome job.” 

She did her thing, I asked what was next, and she said to check out with the front window on my way out.

I’m not sure why I did not have to see a doctor, after all, but I do know this: I had only been home an hour when Ann called me and informed me that I have an appointment in twelve days with a real live doctor, at the clinic.

Not that Dr. Cheng, down in San Francisco wasn’t live-she would have been, and in color too. I just don’t think the stethoscope would have stretched that far.