In Doctor Godot's Waiting Room
Will de Kypia



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Sailboats at rest in the harbor, anchored and immobile.
An appropriate image for a flotilla of becalmed patients.

Many hoping to receive a revised forecast—medical rather
than meteorological—more favorable than the previous one.

A forecast calling for gentle winds to billow our sails so we
might again enjoy a tranquil passage across the sea of life.

Meanwhile, we can examine a fine
selection of chronocidal periodicals.

Consumer Reports and AARP. People and
Time. Everyone's favorite, Reader’s Digest.

The usual suspects, already interrogated
by a plague of sick folk. I'll check out the
unusuals, they look a little less fondled.

Here's Savage, no, it's Savvy Investing, I probably
should make an appointment with the eye guy too.

F3: Fashion Forward Feminist, for the woman who is
both a working professional and sexually self-assured.

Don't think I'm in their target audience.

According to The Artful Gamester the best game of
the year, in fact the best game of the 21st century so
far is "Zombie Drone Pilot: Let God Sort Them Out."

They ought to make some games for us 20th century
anachronisms, like "The Ghoul With A Gatling Gun".

Terminal Geriatrics does offer an introduction
to “Pneumonia, The Old Man's Last Best Friend.”

This old man prefers not to make any pneu friends.

The Hemostat has “Flex the Sex: Kegels For Men."
Hmm, sounds interesting, I'll try them, won't hurt.

Also “Twenty-Four Important Medical Tests."

In the old days you'd do
the annual physical thing.

See your friendly family GP, step on
the scale, say “aah,” cough, kick, pee,
and be awarded a clean bill of health.

"No significant changes to note, set up
an appointment for the same time next
year, give my best to Martha and the kids."
 
Nowadays you enter a perplexing maze staffed
by practitioners whose sole function seems to be
tormenting you with their four-and-twenty tests.

They slap on the cuff as you walk in,
confirm that your pressure is elevated,
then draw blood samples. Lots of them.
Plus a urine specimen. And maybe…more.

Vampires sucking up our vital fluids,
no doubt causing an epidemic of anemia.
And various additional deficiency disorders.
 
Past a certain age, a man must expect to measure
out his remaining years in medical examinations.

So many of this test and so many of that, all
documenting time's accelerating depredations.

Until he fails the final test when the ultimate
examiner will require him to settle his account.
 
We begin the process with the PCP, AKA
the primary care physician. Who naturally
will order a CBC, AKA a complete blood count.
 
If the CBC shows hemoglobin and
hematocrit levels outside the normal
range, the cause is likely to be—anemia!

The follow-up is a TIBC or total iron binding
capacity test to check out your transferrin.

Total iron binding capacity? Transferrin?

You really oughta go to med school before
you decide to get sick. Otherwise you won't
know what the hell your doc is talking about.

An EEG, my brain is as good as ever.  
 
An EKG, too bad the old ticker isn't.
 
Thyroid and pre-diabetes screenings, a fecal
occult blood test—Lovecraft would love it—
followed by a double-contrast barium enema.

Bubble, bubble, my innards are in trouble.
 
Colonoscopy every ten years or sigmoidoscopy
every five. I'll take the ten years, less Freudian.

The carotid artery ultrasound for stroke, an
ankle-brachial index for peripheral artery
disease, a spiral CT scan for lung cancer.

Such magical weapons our modern-day
wizards are able to wield on our behalf!

If you're able to pay the wizards their fee.

At least I've got insurance, decent insurance.
There are people without any at all. Poor old…

Poor old what's his face? Wasn't I talking
to someone or other about the cost of
medical insurance a couple days ago?

I’m forever half-remembering things.
 
How is a brainpan like a bedpan?
They're both made to hold crap.
 
Tests used to be simple.

Cholesterol was high or it was not high.
 
Then this good and bad cholesterol stuff made
it so complicated. Different varieties of lipids?
Triglyceride levels? And the LDL/HDL ratio?

Too complicated for an art history major.    

Next, the aneurysm scan. Why?

Cruising along at 70 miles an hour,
a sudden blowout and it’s all over.

What a great way to go.

I want that one. Or
else I want a gun.
 
The gender tree tells me no CA 125 or Pap smear,
nothing transvaginal is required. Instead I get
a PSA and the awkwardly unpleasant DRE.
 
Don't forget regular treks to the medical specialists.

First a dentist.

“Biennial dental exam twice a year.”

Sure.

However, “biennial” is a pleonastic malapropism.
Change it to “biannual” or better yet “semiannual.”

Then delete it.
 
Ophthalmologist, previously noted.
 
Dermatologist once a year.

The three major types of skin cancer.
Lucky me, I picked door number three.

Patients who wish to play doctor themselves
may administer several do-it-yourself tests.

A testicular self-exam in the shower
used to be just a popular pastime.

Now it's a diagnostic procedure.

An oral self-exam in the mirror for
signs of erythroplakia or leukoplakia,
illustrations below. Less popular.

Reading about medical tests and the ailments they're
supposed to detect could turn you into a hypochondriac
obsessed with your self-diagnosed delusional afflictions.

“Doctor, every morning there's blood on my toothbrush.
My bowels are always loose, and the lesion in my soul
will not heal. I think it's Epstein-Barr or fibromyalgia.”
 
I have no delusions. Or illusions.
 
An old man going under the knife is last season’s chaff
ready for burning. Not much heat to give, even less light.

Mostly bad smells and the kind of smoke that
will leave a smudge on his friends for a while. 
 
Well…Enough angst for one office visit.
Let's return to those usual suspects.

National Geographic, still the same.

The New Yorker, it's changed or I have.

Sports Illustrated, not the swimsuit issue.

A rag I've never seen, Truth, no, it's Trout F…

_________Pardon me? Yes, yes I am.

_________Sorry, guess I was daydreaming.

_________No thanks, I can find it myself.

_________I've been here before.

______________________.~. ~. ~ ..~. ~. ~

Sail On!