The Write Woman doesn’t Trust Just ANY Doctor (224 Days Remaining)

As soon as little Timmy sniffles, the thought pops into mom’s mind, “Oh, I sure hope it isn’t that dreaded flu. Misty said her daughter would’ve ended up in the hospital if she hadn’t caught it when she did.” But did you see the widely publicized flu shot was only 21% effective this year?

            Having the commonly spread HPV (no, not the one where your stuff curls up and dies) where I randomly get cold sores, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Well, I would wish it on some people, but only the ones who deserve it.

During school immunizations  last year, the doctor shared information about this ingenious drug called Gardasil. After three injections, over a six month period, pre-teens can escape the embarrassing occurrence of this ugly week-long-if-you’re-lucky visitor holding their lips hostage. When I explained the benefits to my pre-teen son, he jumped up and down excited to get a shot that would cramp his arm up, make him grumpy and agitated, plus give his little sister an extra target to hone in on for the next two days.

“But,” I reassured him, “after three times, you’ll never have to worry about that horrific growth I get on my lips when I stress out. Won’t that be great?” He agreed the shot was the best option.

            After the first shot in May, he said it hurt pretty bad and I’d better be right. After the second shot in July, he was glad to be in the home stretch with only one more to go. A week before his final shot in November, my son came to breakfast and my mouth fell open. “Holy Sh*t!” I said before I was even aware it burst from my mouth like a tall Dr. Pepper with a Mentos dropped in. My son had a growth on his mouth resembling the eruption of Mt. St. Helen. “What happened?” I asked him.

            “I don’t know,” he said, “I woke up, went in the bathroom to brush my teeth, and there it was.” When I called the doctor to ask what went wrong, the explanation I got was that somehow he must have come in contact with it before the drugs could take affect. I think not. I think the antidote often times has remnants of the illness included in it, and “medical professionals” believe that if given in small doses with the disease’s adversary, the injections prevent future outbreaks. “You might as well bring him in and get the last shot anyway,” she said, “He’s already had the first two.” Isn’t that adding insult to injury? 

We took him in anyway, and he used Abreva, which is excellent, especially when you use it before anything more than tingling occurs. This also seems to lessen the occurrence. It’s been a couple of years since I’ve had any outbreaks. It’s pretty darned expensive, but you get what you pay for. Zilactin was the other drug I used to use. Not costing quite as much, doesn’t work as fast, and doesn’t seem to build up the immune system like the other one. If you’re stupid and believe everything you see on television, use Campho Phenique. It stinks, it burns, and only lets everyone around you know you have a horribly disfiguring and contagious illness so stand back. My mother used to prescribe this to me, and I wonder if it was just to keep the boys away.

            Even though we don’t have television service at my house, I tend to keep up on current events through the Internet and gym equipment screens. I noticed today how many drug companies are bolstered during news broadcasts. Typically older people are more concerned with what’s going on in the world. Are they targets because their bodies are on the decline and there may be some discomfort? Anyway, pay attention the next commercial you see for one of these “miracle drugs.” Really listen to what they’re saying. A commercial for a drug that started off with a seventies hit talking about perseverance and ending with a scrap of the same tune. But for more than half of the commercial, the announcer listed so many things that could go wrong, my head nearly exploded. One of the things he said was, “If you have an allergic reaction, you should quit taking the drug.” No kidding? Are there really people who would break out blue in the face, with a neck as tight as a working fire hose, shrugging their shoulders to pop another pill in their mouth?

            So remember, if no one sees the doctor, he doesn’t get paid. His job, and the job of the drug manufacturers, is to make sure you keep coming back—sort of like an AA meeting. Eat right, exercise, and don’t take the word of someone else to explain how you’re supposed to feel.

            Keep in mind there are regular checkups you absolutely should have. When I was much younger and still a hot product, my OB-GYN was tall dark and very handsome. I had a thing for him. If I’d had something wrong, such as the HPV I mentioned earlier, I probably wouldn’t have seen him because I'd simply be too embarrassed. He never broke any rules as a practicing physician by asking me out. Still, I must admit no one has ever done as thorough a breast exam and prepared me for the internal exam without lubricant like he did. So if you are ever going to pay money for entertainment, instead of paying for your date, kill two birds with one stone and find a dashing OB/GYN.