New Diet Means No Pizza!

You know something is not right when your new doctor tells you that you need to have a blood test done. Immediately.

"But I just had a blood test done with my previous doctor, doctor," I told her, attempting to lighten the moment.

What's even worse is, post-blood test, when your doctor tells you your cholesterol is elevated and you'd best be taking medication in order to bring it down. How elevated? Am I going to die in the next 27 minutes or 27 days?

It turns out that it's only 'slightly' elevated. Loosely translated, that means there will be many more blog posts to come, my esteemed readers! It also means I'm 'mostly' healthy, but that is me paraphrasing the doctor's words just a wee bit.

So now my new doctor has called in a prescription that will reduce my cholesterol quickly and efficiently. There was no talk of weight loss, diet or exercise. We jump straight to medicine. Quackery.

Luckily, my father is a doctor. I had him look into my numbers and the medicine that has been prescribed to me and, as these things often are, it's quite problematic.

Why is it problematic? Allow me to tell you. Some of the side effects of Pravastatin, the medicine the doctor was so quick to prescribe, include general pain, fatigue and chest pain. News flash -- at my age, those are the same symptoms of exercise, which is supposed to have a positive effect upon my cholesterol.

Some of the other side effects include dizziness, cough, rash and diarrhea. And these are just the common reactions. I, the English major, can't pronounce or spell many of the less common side effects! What the heck is lupus erythematosus, anyway?! How do you say that?

And yet another side effect is cognitive impairment! I certainly don't need any medicine to impair my abilities to make my subjects and verbs agree. Or, even worse, the medicine could cause me to split my infinitives!

The saddest part of this whole sordid affair is my diet. I've been told that I may... Okay, delete 'may.' I will have to change my diet. And, unfortunately and most grievously, the first thing to go will be my beloved pepperoni pizzas and hot dogs!

Multiple Diagnosis Lead Nowhere

I don't normally do blogposts so close together, but I thought it would only be fair of me to let my readers weigh in on the situation at hand.

It seems my 'doctor' -- which he isn't since he's only a physicians assistant -- isn't sure what I have. My fever hasn't yet abated and most of my bumps, with only two notable exceptions, seem to have dissipated. The two interlopers have gotten bigger and uglier!

Regardless, he's asked me to come in again today so they can take a look at the two evil bumps. He still seems to think I have chicken pox, though, according to my blood work, I could have any number of things which are most likely contagious since I still have a fever.

This is where you get to weigh in, dear readers, to make a guess as to what I have. I don't know how big the money pot has gotten to; I may be worth a fortune right now!

Here is where we stand.

My mother-in-law and her neighbor have both diagnosed me as having shingles. While I usually trust her judgment, I trust my Mom's too. My Mom's money is on a rash and the flu that just happen to coincide.

My dearest, darling son says I have Mad Cow Disease or possibly some psychological dysfunction and I'm bringing this on myself. My wife said simply "you've just got the first grade crud. Now get over it!"

My son's pediatrician, a real medical doctor, told me she could diagnose me. I just have to come in for a visit. My father, also a real doctor, gave me a number of things and told me he loved me. Doctors have the worst sense of humor...

My 'doctor' seems to still be under the assumption that it's chicken pox. The medical student he brought in to see me had no idea, giggled and then asked for options from which she could choose.

Which leaves me... Well, nowhere. So this is your chance, dear readers, to comment and tell me what you think I have.

While I can't promise the winner any money, I can promise you the satisfaction of knowing you were the one who got it right.

"I've Never Seen This Before"

The statement "You know, I've never seen this before" is generally not something you want to hear coming from your doctor.

However, today marks the second time I've had a doctor tell me that, though I've heard it before from numerous other people in numerous other instances.

The first time was when I found out I was allergic to tree nuts, specifically almonds and pistachios -- my two favorites. For some very odd reason, only half of me swells up.

"That's impossible, Phillip," my doctor at the time told me.

When I came in half swollen from a wedding cake made with almond extract, she was stunned. She stared at me a moment, speechless.

"Oh my God, Phillip," she said finally in her best authoritative doctor's voice. "That's crazy! I've never seen that before!"

She even went so far as to get one of her fellow doctors within her office to take a look at me. He, also, showed the proper amount of surprise and amazement.

And now, today, my 'doctor' -- he's not, since he's only a physicians assistant -- also told me, "you know, I've never seen this before!"

He brought in a plethora of people from the office into our minuscule examining room to check me out. Each one had a different diagnosis. I suspect they were making bets as to whose diagnosis would turn out to be correct.

Which leaves me at home, in bed, wondering if I have chicken pox or not. I had chicken pox as a kid, which makes my case unusual. Add the fact that no one knows where I could have picked it up and it gets even more bizarre.

The pints of blood they juiced from my arm today should answer that question. Sadly, though, I won't find out until tomorrow!