It's Saturday a.m. I'm sitting here with coffee going through mail and dreading the trip to the hospital. I hate hospitals. I abhor hospitals. I have a sneaking feeling that hospitals are directly responsible for most of the problems we have with medical care in the United States. I distrust doctors generally, and hospitals particularly. Hospitals are generally a conspiracy of doctors designed to seperate me from my loved ones or my cash. They sprawl across the landscape, always growing, like a cancer against productivity. Here in Alexandria, one hospital in particular even wants to take over part of the city park, the little league fields, so it could grow.
The very fact that the situation was seriously considered in the city council shows just how insidious hospitals can be. They want to grow, let them buy some property outside of town and build the biggest damned hospital they want. I'm sure we can find something to do with their old, blighted property. Turn it into a museum, or a crack house, or something.
Yet, my lady is still in the hospital. The tumor was benign, but they extracted a section of colon, so it was still major surgery. She, on the other hand, is a nurse, and is used to working with doctors. She trusts the bastards. I don't.
Doctors, you see, are arrogant sons-of-bitches who think that they are worth the money they make. Most of them are seriously deficient in some way and retreat into medicine as a way to prop up their own fragile egos. Most surgeons are closet sadists who like cutting on people, and have license to do so. It's a sick, sick profession.
Were I in a combat zone and had three targets appear, a suicide bomber, an attorney with a briefcase, or a doctor with a Littman handing from his neck, I would have trouble deciding which to tag first. Either of the three would gladly bleed you, with the attorney being the only one who wouldn't break the skin. He'd just ruin you financially. Both the terrorist and the MD would gladly kill you in the name of their particular specialty. I think I'd have to shoot the doctor first, then the attorney and get the terrorist last. At least the terrorist is honest enough to admit he wants to see his victims dead.
I gotta go to the damned hospital.
The old joke goes like this: If you only have two bullets, you shoot the lawyer twice.
ReplyDeletePrayers for the quick healing of your beloved.
At least the terrorist and the doctor can't screw you over once you're dead. not so with lawyers. ;)
ReplyDeleteI'll have to agree with you on the doctor bit. I'm at the LSU med center in Shreveport and the MDs live in their own little world were they are kings a queens. I hope every thing turns out alright. Good luck a best wishes for a quick healing.
ReplyDeleteI know what you're going through, and my prayers are with you, your wife and your family. BTW, you're smart not to trust doctors; always go with your instinct.
ReplyDeleteGeez, PawPaw, why don't you tell us how you REALLY feel?
ReplyDeleteYour beloved wife is in my prayers.
But, when you start killin Docs, just leave mine alone, I kinda like my bone Doc and my GP. They're not arrogant, they have a sense of humor, and they're into guns and hunting.
Holly,
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you like your docs. They need that to survive, but don't think for a minute that they care any more about you than a cattleman cares for the momma cows in his pasture.
You're just one of the herd dear heart and as soon as you aren't profitable, they'll drop you into hospice.
Keep reading and I'll explain in upcoming posts why you have to stay ill so your doctors can prosper.
don't forget those drug companies.
ReplyDeleteand the insurance companies.