I’m stupid, but I’m seeing a doctor

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by admin on September 15, 2010

There’s an urgent need for doctors in the Gatineau Hills, but let’s watch what we wish for. I’m not especially enamored with doctors per se – we need body mechanics as we do auto mechanics – but society gives MDs an unconditional free pass when brain power is on the examination table.

Thinking of climbing Mount Everest on the weekend? See your doctor. Contemplating a fun run across the Sahara Desert with Ray Zahab? Consult your doctor. The federal party leaders don’t give you a rise? You may have Electile Dysfunction. Talk to your doctor.

See? They freakin’ know everything – or at least we’re led to believe they do. I’m not on that bandwagon, because intelligence has no measurable benchmarks that indicate common sense. Think Mensa Society, where IQ indices rule. The Common Sense Club doesn’t go around counting knows-is.

I was once referred to a cardiac specialist after my family doctor detected an arrhythmia. The visit did not go well. It began with the usual preliminaries:

How old are you? Do you smoke? Do you drink? How tall are you? How much do you weigh? You know the drill.

I answered “five-foot-eleven” and “240 pounds” re: the latter questions, whereupon the doctor consulted a dog-eared chart and said, “According to this, you should weigh 168 pounds.” I couldn’t believe it: I had been referred to a cardio guy who couldn’t pass an eye test.

The BMI ratings had me pegged as being Obese, but I wasn’t far off the Normal mark. I reacted to his outdated frame of reference: “Dr. Salcedo, with all due respect, some people are thicker than others, and sometimes the thickness is above the neck.”

“Well,” he hrummphed as he shot me a withering look, “You might want to lose a few pounds.” I did, after exiting his office, never to be seen again.

I have since added another vinaigrette to the lighter side of medicine, filed under Affairs of the Heart, near my go-around with the cardio guy.

It was reported Aug. 31 that the decomposing body of a California doctor was found stuck in the chimney of her boyfriend’s house. Jacquelyn Kotarac, 49, apparently tried to force entry into the house, which the boyfriend had vacated to flee a potential confrontation.

After failing to jimmy open the door with a shovel, she used a ladder to mount the roof, removed the chimney cap and climbed in feet first. She was reported missing, and the house-sitter made a gruesome discovery two days later when she went to feed the fish.

Want to drop in on the boyfriend? Talk to your doctor.

Meanwhile, if the chimney incident had occurred during a viral pandemic, one might have affixed the headline, “Doctor Making House Call Victim Of Flue Season,” to the story.

One hopes that MDs occasionally see themselves as patients and recommend heavy doses of laughter, the best medicine.

If they can’t ascribe to the prescription, here’s my advice: Talk to a doctor.