What's Up Doc?

Bluffton Today column
July 20,2011

This one is dedicated to my doctor, who never actually became my doctor, because even though my primary physician felt that there was an issue that needed a specialist’s attention, that specialist refused to see me.

As I am sure you can imagine I was beyond thrilled by this scenario. For entertainment purposes, let me shed a little on the conversation for ya. It went a little something like this.

Me: “Hi, this is Courtney Hampson. My doctor sent over a referral and my file and I’d like to make an appointment.”

Them: “Let me connect you with our referral specialist.”

Referral Specialist: “Yes, I see a note that says, ‘Dr. Evil cannot see you at this time’.”

Me: “So, he’s too busy or is just offended by me in general?”

RS: “Your symptoms are not really something he treats.”

Me: “Really, what specific symptoms are not valid enough for Dr. Evil?”

RS: “Well, I don’t actually have your file in front of me.”

Me: “So, you’re making this up? Or you are just not qualified to answer my questions?”

RS: “All I can tell you is what it says here.”

Me (under my breath): “Specialist may be a stretch in your job title, don’t ya think?

Me: “So what you are telling me is that my doctor of five years thinks there is an issue and wants a specialist to take a closer look, but you are refusing to see me?”

RS: “Well.”

Me (louder): “So what you are telling me is that my doctor of five years thinks there is an issue and wants a specialist to take a closer look, but you are refusing to see me?”

RS: “Yes.”

Me: “Ok. What was your name again? Susannah? Great. You and Dr. Evil can look forward to seeing your name in print real soon. What is it they say … any PR is good PR? Have a great day.”

Then I burst into tears.

I’ve been feeling crappy for awhile. We’ve tried a few things to regulate the ol’ hormones, but nothing seems to kick the symptoms in the arse. I experienced years of reproductive challenges, so I basically chalked this up to faulty plumbing and darn it stinks to be a woman. My doctor (and my Mom) finally convinced me to have someone else take a look.

Enter Dr. Evil, who won’t see me and whose name I can’t pronounce, and since I read aloud as I write, and because I wondered if a name drop would make it to print, I changed his name. He is, of course, the only endocrinologist in my health plan. Oh, and his office is in Savannah. And, his practice might have the word endocrinology in the title. Maybe.

So now what? Well, I’m thinking witch doctor. Which doctor? A witch doctor. Which (isn’t this fun?), in our first world usually refers to chiropractors, homeopaths and faith healers. Homeopathy you say? I’m in. Homeopathy is a system of medical therapy that uses very small doses of medicines, or remedies. These remedies are prepared from substances found in nature - plants, minerals and animal substances.

So, I’m putting on the white jacket and headed to my laboratory. (Since you now know that I read aloud as I am typing, you should know that I annunciated that as “la-BOOR-atory.”)

Plant material – I’m going mint. I will mix said mint with a little rum and some soda and Mojito my way to a healthier me.

Mineral – do diamonds count? I’ve got a new one on my left ring finger. And, frankly that makes me feel better already.

Final ingredient – animal. Pig is big, so I’m going bacon.

Oh, stop. I know that is not how homeopathy is practiced. But it was funny. And it took my mind off the fact that there is a bigger issue here and I am debating how to tackle it, however the last thing I want is a political debate a la health care, or a retort from Bill Roe. So, I guess the only question I have is … what’s up doc?