Too Many Doctors?

For a while, I thought it was a joke, my new specialists. I’ve been telling people for years that I began this period in my life when I acquired my cardiologist. It’s more than 15 years now. I picked up Dr. Gala at the time that I had my carotid artery rotorootered. That surgery was fortuitous, the result of an incidental finding. If I hadn’t had the surgery then, I would have stroked within six months, maybe died. It’s been a bit of a rollercoaster since – four stents and one massive complication – but things on the heart front have settled down. I take a bunch of pills daily, my blood pressure is good, and Gala doesn’t want to see me for six months. I miss him.

Now, I’ve acquired two more specialists, a neurologist and a urologist. My path to the neurologist began first, as I was driving across the Verrazano Bridge – still the longest suspension bridge in the US, although now fallen to 27^th in the world – when suddenly I was seeing double. I managed to continue the trip by turning my head to the left and looking forward through the right corner of my eye. I got to my ophthalmologist the next day. He got the diagnosis right but sent me to a neuro-ophthalmologist in Manhattan for confirmation. I’d never even heard of a neuro-ophthalmologist. There are none on Staten Island. This guy ordered an MRI of my brain. Just to be on the safe side. Although my double vision resolved itself within two weeks, the MRI raised an eyebrow. I should have a neurologist. It’s hard for “new patients” to get appointments. I should establish a relationship so that when I really need a neurologist, I’ll be an “existing patient.” We waited six months for an appointment.

When we saw the neurologist, nice guy, he did a full exam. My memory came through well. Ten minutes later, I still remembered three words. I walked across his office on my heels. I walked across his office on my toes. When it came to “tight roping” across his office, I stumbled like a drunk. PET scan of the brain. Well, my mother had Alzheimer’s at the end of her life. We better be careful. The PET scan was inconclusive, so we scheduled second. Turned out to be a relief. No incipient Alzheimer’s, and I have my neurologist for when I need him.

Meanwhile, I had my annual physical, routine blood work. Everything was good, except my PSA jumped. It was time to see a urologist. Shorter wait. Nice, young guy. Yes, I’d known that my prostate was enlarged. I was peeing like an old man, but no one had been worried. The elevated PSA could signal cancer. Time for another MRI. Inconclusive. Prostate cancer? We’ve scheduled a biopsy. This is getting scary. A urologist and a neurologist as well as a cardiologist isn’t so funny.  And all this because of incidental findings. But what’s the alternative? Avoid doctors?

One of my best friends is gone because she avoided doctors, didn’t get her annuals. It took them a while to figure the pain she eventually complained of – she thought cracked rib – was caused by stage four esophageal cancer. She was dead in six months. Not a great alternative. There is joy in living long enough to acquire a cardiologist, a neurologist, and a urologist.