So I had an appointment a week or so ago with my family physician. They make you come in every three months. They don't like to refill prescriptions unless you do. So I did.
My children take me to these appointments. They do so because I don't own a car. And because they don't trust me to follow doctor's orders. They know about the dislike I have for doctor visits. Comes from my parents, I think. Mother was ill nearly all of her life and spent countless hours and days in doctor's offices and hospitals. Dad developed an attitude of thinking doctors were gods. After Mother's death and in his later years, he became obsessed with seeing a doctor for every little ache and pain. A perfect example was this:
Got a call from my brother who lived near Dad at the time. Dad was living in the small nursing home in his home town, where he was well cared for. His physical condition was such that he could no longer live at home, but his mental capacities were as sharp as ever. Anyway, brother called to tell me that Dad was on his way to the hospital. Seems he was having some pain in his shoulder and because of his history of heart problems, he had convinced the nursing home staff that he was probably having a heart attack. I told brother to let me know what was happening and that I could be there in a few hours if needed. The call came a couple of hours later. I asked brother what was wrong with Dad. He said the doctors told him that he had a sore shoulder and sent him home. But Dad was happy. He got to ride in an ambulance the 25 miles to the hospital. He got to see a couple of doctors. And he got to flirt a bit with the nurses. All at 90 + years of age! I really miss that sneaky old man.
Anyway, I kept my appointment. Which resulted in two more appointments - one with a podiatrist yesterday (foot care is apparently important to diabetics) and one this morning with an eye specialist (it seems that diabetics also can have major eye problems). Daughter set up both appointments, knowing that I probably wouldn't.
Youngest Son took me to the podiatrist appointment yesterday. My feet are ugly, but healthy. But now I am told I need special shoes designed for diabetics. So Youngest Son took me directly to the office of the shoe people and proceeded to make an appointment to be measured for shoes. He was taking no chances on my backing out of that. Couldn't do anything about it. His truck - he kept the keys - had to go along with it. I was too far away to walk home.
So this morning I am thinking I will see the eye doctor, get a new prescription for glasses and that would be the end of it. Been doing this since I first wore glasses at 8 years of age. No problem. Wouldn't have to see anyone wearing a white coat for a while. Silly me.
Cataract surgery on my left eye is scheduled for August third, followed by surgery on the right eye two weeks later.
I suppose most of this is my own fault. I haven't kept up with these things like I should have. But I had the feeling that my life was out of control. The one thing I really dislike - the doctor's visits and all - was happening and I didn't like it. Until my daughter broke through my anger and told me I did have a choice. I could have the surgery and be able to see without glasses for the first time in over 60 years, with the exception of over the counter reading glasses for close work, or I could choose not to have the surgery and be able to see less and less clearly. She was right. I stuffed my anger and stubbornness into my back pocket and made the appointments.
But when this is all done with, I don't want to see a white coat wearing medical person for a long time. :)
God's Word of the Day, 3/22/18
15 minutes ago