Dispatch: From The Kaiser's office

Planet Earth has some really loooooooonnnnnnng hallways.

The longest I've ever walked was in the Vatican Museum in Rome. There's a straight-away there that I'd wager is the world's longest straight hallway. You can't see the end of it -- in fact, when you're in the middle of the hallway (however you might judge that without a ruler), my recollection is that you can't see either end. In the distance, it dips below the horizon.

I've walked the hallway twice, and both times, I've been fascinated by the sheer distortion of time and space caused by walking what seems to be an endless hallway.

It seems my little fascination extends to really long hallways in general, not just ones in the Vatican. Perhaps, in addition to taking a dip in all the world's significant bodies of water, I should collect long hallways in my travels, too.

I bagged another one today when I went to the doctor. Having lost the cushy fee-for-service health insurance of my old employer (and later, of XGF's employer), I haven't sought medical care for anything in at least a year and a half. Last summer, I switched over to coverage with Kaiser Permanente, and I've been afraid to use it. Not only does it cost me out the butt in premiums, there are deductibles to pay and whatnot.

But a nagging problem finally sent me in for a medical consulation today. I would say "see the doctor," but The Kaiser doesn't seem to employ many of those.

So first thing I do is walk down a really long hallway. Not Vatican City kind-of-long, but long enough to make me feel the sheer absence of intimacy to which I have become accustomed when seeing my (former) doctor, who I will retain as a "prescribing physician" so SOMEONE will be willing to refill my Nasonex during allergy season.

Anyway, long hallway, long walk, long wait in line only to be directed to some long stairs dropping down to another long hallway filled with waiting spaces, where I sat down and had a long wait for some kind of medical specialist. Prior to seeing this woman, who turned out to be a physician's assistant, I was weighed in a HALLWAY and had my pulse taken while standing at a counter. That is some weird shit there. No privacy. My pulse, strangely, was 101 (ONE HUNDRED AND ONE!), which probably explains the sensation I've had recently of a racing heart.

Anyway, the P.A. read me the riot act for not taking my blood pressure medication. (Seems to me she could've been a little more concerned that my resting pulse was off the freaking charts -- it's normally in the 70s.) I've been feeling a fair amount of stress lately, so I was actually rather pleased with my blood pressure which was, while not perfect, NOT HIGH.

Nevertheless, the fact that I walked in with about half a dozen blood pressure pills in a bottle whose date indicated they were a stocking stuffer from the Ghost of Christmas Past was all this woman needed to unroll the big old "You're-38-which-is-*not*-young-and-you're-gonna-stroke-out" lecture. (Is there some reason she had to emphasize the part where 38 is *not* young?)

Because this was my first introduction to Kaiser, I was given a big, soft-cover healthcare book, the title of which should be something like, "How to Care for Yourself When The Kaiser (aka: Your HMO) Won't See You."

I was also asked a lot of questions about family medical history. And then, putting aside cost factors, the *real* reason I've been avoiding a "medical consultation" came to light. The physician's assistant looked me in the eye and asked, "Are you pregnant?"

No.

"Ever been pregnant?"

No.

"Are you on birth control?"

(Laughter)

"Are you sexually active?"

I wish.

"I'll take that as a no," she replied. And there, on her computer screen, I saw her check-mark a box that said, "Sexually frustrated."

*sigh*

"So what can I do for you today?"

I walked out of there with a host of "addictive" drugs. She kept warning me: "That's addictive, you know. It's addictive...." And I almost felt compelled to say, Well, if you're so concerned about addiction, why the hell are you giving them to me? I mean, put up or SHUT UP! But instead I just smiled politely and said, Oh really? Well, it's a good thing I don't need to take them very often.

I was a touch pissed, however, when she wouldn't give me some Ambien and insisted on prescribing something called "oxazepam," which she indicated would not work as fast nor as well. She gave me 10 of them -- good for about two months, unless I need to take twice the dosage (which she indicated I might).

I wasn't quite so pissed, however, when all my drugs -- illicit and otherwise -- cost me $36 total at checkout. And that's the price of them, not a co-pay.

So the old Kaiser is good for something: He's got cheap drugs.

And one amazingly long hallway.