TMI

Patient: I used to take Cialis every day. But I haven't in a while. 

Me: (knows the answer but there's always a chance) and what for sir?

Patient: To get a hard-on!

...I'm sorry I had to ask. Glad you feel tact is overrated. 

You're not Helping Me...

I was sifting through the routine calls when I get a call from a mother trying to pay the bill for her THIRTY year-old son. She calls the day of the payment deadline, but she cannot get anywhere "no matter what number I call nobody is helping me. They keep asking for my son's member ID number."

I'm immediately annoyed because even if a thirty year-old is unemployed his mommy shouldn't be handling the issue. Then the mother proceeds to get very annoyed at me, and asks three times for her son's member ID number. Three times the answer is the same: "Ma'am, I cannot give out that information. Your son is over 18 and federal law prohibits me from doing so without him explicitly authorizing me to do so." She continues to ask again, as if I'm really just doing it for fun.

After the third time she just says "You're not helping me. Bye." Click. I'd be lying if I said I felt bad about being unhelpful.


That is one thing that has been driven home while doing this job: people do not pay attention, or listen. And they do so, blissfully.

Med-studentitis??

For the last few weeks I had bee experiencing a random PAIN in my left hip. 

What kind of pain you say?

The kind that hurts.

It started in my left leg, near what I thought was my quad. Ok, grand. IT band syndrome. A few friends of mine who run get it frequently. But I'm not a neurotic obsessive runner. I do about six miles of cardio two or three times a week. If I weren't working insanely late hours (and a lot of paid overtime) I would love to do a bit more. But I digress...The pain would be random. I would be sitting (read lounging) in my chair at work answering for the 6745th time that day a question that I cannot comprehend why I'm being asked...when this hellish pain would seize my left leg/hip. The pain then started to migrate up into my hip and lower back. Even better!! Now I have either piriformis syndrome or sciatica. Oh goody!!!! Now I either have a hypertrophied muscle, or a nerve/spinal problem. Dear Lord help me. So I start doing stretches. A lot of glute and hamstring stretches while I'm standing there just listening to somebody ask a question that I know is going to result in a transfer to an esoteric customer service agent who just does only that (I just love my job right now...). It seems like it's starting to get better. But it still randomly shoots through my back. I start to freak out. I'm far too young for this!!!

Then I go play tennis. And the pain becomes obvious. I'm out of practice. Right before the onset of the pain I hit for the first time in four months. And ran and hit some serious ball. Oops. I'm still too young for all this...

Sweet Home CHICAGO!

So, the time has come to discuss my match. In short, I matched at my number one hospital, in Chicago. I'd prefer not to reveal where for a whole host of reasons. I got an email yesterday with a list of things to do as long as my arm. So there goes my Sunday off!! I'm hardly complaining, as I'm quite excited. Though it certainly did not factor anywhere near the top of my list, the fact that I do not have to move is an incredible bonus to the results of the match. 

It has been a long, long, long, challenging, and at times frustrating journey. At this point, I'm elated, and content. Not sure what else to say about residency at this point.

On another note, I've started doing yoga again. I did it in order to improve my flexibility--I can barely touch my toes, though that's improving--and to mix up my workout routine. It's really challenging!!! I did it often on the island with an amazing teacher, but the reasons were more mental than physical. I guess that's just as important, because it would allow me to forget about that stupid pharmacology test for an hour, and focus more on not falling down during Warrior 3.

Work is...well work. I'm still not crazy about the job. The first half hour really takes some motivation to psych myself into a long day of answering questions from people...many of whom aren't that swift. (stop being judgmental luckyone). 

One member had his daughter call in, asking for a Mandarin interpreter, only to inform me that we are actually needing to speak with his wife. Ok, cool...except OH YEAH, she doesn't speak Mandarin. She actually speaks Cantonese, which the interpreter (that took five minutes to get connected with) does not. Well no worries, I can just get a Cantonese interpreter. But he'd rather not, and would rather just translate (from the interpreter) into Cantonese. So we basically have an episode of both I Love Lucy and The West Wing occurring on my phone.

Later the same day I had a gentlemen, and after a few minutes it was obvious that something was just not right. This guy was not paddling with both oars in the water, the elevator did not go up to the top floor, or he wasn't firing on all cylinders. You decide which metaphor is appropriate. Among other things, he informed me that the numbers listed for his wife and son (his number, the primary's) weren't correct. Ok, no problem. BUT WAIT...he doesn't know there numbers. Well sir, my mind-reading crystal ball isn't working today, so I'll have to leave yours (the primary's) on the account. Later in the call he remembers the number...oh but wait, it gets better, at the end of the call he tells me that he can't remember which son's number he gave me. So the number might be for his OTHER son, who isn't listed on the policy. Well Hell's fire sir, what the flippin' [bleep] am I supposed to do with that?!?! Remember, my mind-reading crystal ball isn't working.

And if one more person asks me what their premium is for a plan that they (supposedly) selected, I may just scream. It blows my mind how someone picks an insurance plan without looking at the price. I myself would look at the price first, because it could offer vaccinations made from the saliva of Christ, and if I couldn't afford it then it's a no-go. 

Singin' Doo Wah Diddy Diddy Dum Diddy Doo

I MATCHED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Just in case you didn't hear me:

I MATTTTTTCHEDDDDDD!!!

I was a nervous wreck for about a week, and I had a lot of difficulty sleeping. Friday and Saturday I was in just about the foulest mood possible going into work...not always a good thing. Sunday we did nothing but watch TV. I was definitely not the most pleasant person to be around. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to think. I wanted total mindless activity just for a few days, which is normally unlike me.

This morning I woke up earlier than usual. Decided to tackle some laundry. Then I decided to de-stress with a p90X stretch video...which worked until I pulled my left trapezius muscle. Oh well, whatever! I took a shower and a few minutes later I had an email telling me I have a jay-oh-bee.

This is probably the last post that I'm going to make with the "medical school" label on it! So weird and freaky!!

Day

Encounter of the Day:

Me: Asks a question.

Patient: *struggles to remember who was her insurance provider for a policy that ended two weeks ago* Finally decides to blame me for her memory loss (if she actually ever knew it in the first place..."Why you askin' that? That's not REVELANT."

...well you got me there...it's not revelant...It is, however, relevant.

On another note: I had a call from a patient who apparently either loved the sound of her own voice, or had nobody to talk to. She talked for fifty minutes about her problems. A future (hopefully) psychiatrist, I figured I'd let her vent. At the very least since she is a paying member who is responsible for my salary she deserves the right to voice her experiences and frustrations. So I listened. I listened for fifty minutes.

Just before that I had a forty-five minute call from a member who had a great attitude, but a horrible disease. I felt a little less deserving to complain about ANYTHING after hearing her story about dealing with SCDS.

I'm going through a member's benefits, and he finds out that diabetes monitoring was not covered as preventative care.
Guy on the phone: "Well...You know what, now that you mention it, I think they misdiagnosed me. I don't think I have diabetes then!"
Me: "Well sir, I'm not your doctor so that would be between you and your doctor to discuss. If you think you need a second opinion that's between you and your doctor."
Member: "Yeah well, you're not gonna write any of that down are you??"
Me: "Sir, at this point I haven't written anything down, and you don't have to discuss anything you don't want to."
Member: "Yeah, well I don't have diabetes."
Member is 6'4 340 lbs...yeah dude, it's absolutely impossible that you'd have diabetes.

Later I got a call that made my day.

"You're a breath of fresh hair. Don't ever let anybody change you. It was a pleasure to talk with you."