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Fri Nov  5 12:09:40 AM EDT 2021
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A little more than a week before, it begins: The relentless,
automated voicemails, text messages, and emails, are all
hounding with reminders of your upcoming appointment. Login
to the portal to confirm! Login to the portal to confirm!
Login to the portal to confirm! ...

This is the worst time for this. I don't have the time. I'm
already under enough stress. I have so many things going on.
My sleep's all over the clock. I've not been feeling great.
Medicine to keep an old man's blood pressure in some
acceptable range have side effects, the worst of which can
be a numbness or ennui that can really interfere with
getting anything done; without it, though? Withdrawl
symptoms of headaches, ringing in the ears, ... Insurance is
such that that they've mapped out one pill per day, and
without the doctor's say so, there's no renewal. I'll ration
some here and there, tracking the effects, balancing the
numbers, and making sure I can get through any periods of
uncertainty or turmoil.

Login to the portal to confirm! Login to the portal to
confirm!

Checking in at the window, "Oh, you have just one form to
complete today." Great... What is it? Nothing medical, just
financials: You agree that you're liable for whatever
insurance won't cover.  That's a reminder in the back of my
head that there's an outstanding bill or two with their lab
since, even though an order for lab work propagates across
the suite from the doctor's office to the lab, billing and
insurance information somehow does not. I can't deal with
them right now -- too much going on. Besides, I was up all
night doing other work and had a meal overnight that I
shouldn't have prior to lab work. Great.

So irritating... so no surprise: "Huh. Your blood pressure
is elevated. Let's test it again... and again in a few
minutes... and maybe again. And how about lab work?"

"Not today, but I'll schedule it."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"They're right across the hall, so ..."

"Yes, I know."

"And the meds?"

"As I've told you before, (again and again and again,) the
symptoms include..."

"So there's a negative feedback loop, a disincentive to
taking the meds?"

This time maybe he's hearing me.

"I want to see you back in 4-6 weeks."

At the checkout window, "We typically do 2-4 weeks."

"4 is not even good. I have stuff going on and things have
to be sorted out before I come back here."

"Right, so here's a date in 4 weeks."

"Fine." Process robots. I'll reschedule it later...

"Now, let's schedule you for your next physical. The general
rule is no sooner than a year-and-a-day. How does this date
work for you?" She stares at me, expressionless -- maybe
blinks once or twice.

I'm dumbfounded... "Fine, that's great," I say, finishing
the thouht silently, "Robot."

I stopped at a coffee shop on the way home, sat outside
quietly in the sun, and breathed -- just that. I called my
wife to relay the status and story. I'll have to negotiate
with her calendar to pick a day I can go back for lab work.
And during my call with her, I missed another: The message?
"Hi! I'm so-and-so from the doctor's office.  I'm calling to
help you schedule those lab tests..."

What's the escaple from the stress of satisfying the system
that requires you to keep your blood pressure within some
statistically acceptable range, knowing that you won't get
the medicine they've got you hooked on if you don't and you
won't be able to afford it if you can't work through
everything else?

Laugh, I guess, and enjoy a quiet cup of coffee.