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Rough day with the doc

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Rough day with the doc

Old 11th Oct 2010, 15:32
  #61 (permalink)  
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Four months on & my cholesterol reading is back at nearly normal levels - 4.6mmols.

Happy days. But now the doctor wants me to pi$$ in a pot for some reason & wear a 24 hour blood pressure cuff. Turns out it was a bit high, but I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd been on a four day bender & was feeling a bit rough.

I get the feeling that I was never ill til I went to the doctor, to see about my knee.
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Old 11th Oct 2010, 15:41
  #62 (permalink)  
 
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Prepare for a sleepless night!

You won't like that cuff.
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Old 11th Oct 2010, 15:51
  #63 (permalink)  
 
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Parapunter has hit the problem on the head.
Don't go to the Quacks if you can possibly avoid it.
They're desperate for "Interesting" cases.
Don't become one.
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Old 11th Oct 2010, 16:18
  #64 (permalink)  
 
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Parapunter has hit the problem on the head.
Don't go to the Quacks if you can possibly avoid it.
They're desperate for "Interesting" cases.
Don't become one.
Keep away from the buggers.
When things are really grim, they do not have a clue.
When you just potter in to have your ear wax removed they want to wire you up to every kind of device known to mankind, and enquire into every nook and cranny of one's habits.
"How much do you drink?"
"Less than you" normally works.
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Old 11th Oct 2010, 16:28
  #65 (permalink)  
 
Join Date: Dec 2007
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Had that conversation with my old Doc years ago.
Do you smoke? said he. Yes.said I. Do you drink? Said I.
Knowing fullwell he did. End of conversation.
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Old 11th Oct 2010, 17:05
  #66 (permalink)  
 
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I'm interested that your cholesterol is only being given as a single number. My interest is because at my last physical my Doc. sucked his teeth and said "Your cholesterol is a bit high" to which I replied "Err... How high". "225 he replied". I told him this was pretty much impossible, I live with an insulin dependent diabetic whose family has a history of very high cholesterol who is positively OCD about a healthy diet and has managed to keep her cholesterol below "borderline". He looked again and his demeanor brightened. He explained that the number of 225 was derived from my "good", (HDL), and "bad", (LDL), cholesterol and that my "good" cholesterol was exceedingly high. Apparently it should be in the region of 40 but it was at 80 thus, my 225 is really closer to a 185 which is quite reasonable.

Do they not differentiate between the HDL and LDL in the UK?
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Old 11th Oct 2010, 20:45
  #67 (permalink)  
 
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I wore a 24 hour cuff a couple of times. It pretty much confirmed my permanent state of hypertension. I didn't really find it that uncomfortable. Just the results it brought out.

As for avoiding Doctors, it's not just Doctors. Got my eyes tested today as a premptive check against my next Class 1 renewal next month. She also did one of those other checks optamologists like to do and took a nice picture of my eyeballs. She cheerfully noted the cholesterol clogging up the tiny capillaries in my eyes. I gloomily confirmed that my Doctor was already on my case and my next visit to him would find me prescribed my third form of medication. Plus I'll need glasses for driving and flying.

Stay away from opticians too.
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Old 11th Oct 2010, 21:24
  #68 (permalink)  
 
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Well, two weeks away from the 40th birthday & a routine blood test has revealed a cholesterol level of 8.8mmols
Good Effort!!

Mine was 8.2, LDL/HDL ratios the wrong way round and they also found an under-active thyroid (really??)

Started out with Lipitor 80mg (Atorvastatin) but after about 12 months developed really serious side effects, basically my left ankle developed gout like symptoms which eventually led me to wearing hiking boots in an attempt to combat the searing pain of ankle movement, not much good when your are going up 6 flights of scaffolding in a production hall 6/10 times a day.

Changed regime to 40mg Lipitor/10mg Ezetrol, symptoms cleared and down to 4.5. Ldl/hdl imbalance corrected, last check in Dec and hopefully lower soon too.

One of the few things that does seem to work.

GR.
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Old 11th Oct 2010, 21:28
  #69 (permalink)  
 
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Do they not differentiate between the HDL and LDL in the UK?
Depends on the test AA, was yours a fasting test?

GR.

ps for some reason they seem to object to me asking/demanding the fasting test.
Seems bloody obvious as the non fasting test I had didn't point out my LDL/HDL mismatch.
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Old 11th Oct 2010, 22:17
  #70 (permalink)  
 
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Glad Rag:

Pretty sure it was "fasting"..
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Old 11th Oct 2010, 22:40
  #71 (permalink)  
 
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I'm off to-morrow morning for a fasting test jobbie. God I'm hungry! It's bedtime and I haven't eaten or drunk since 18.40.
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Old 13th Oct 2010, 18:16
  #72 (permalink)  
 
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197/92-why am I still here?

OK AA, Yeah sorry, guess you'd notice that bit maybe different testing regime??

I dunno, some of these pro's do like their little niche and have fairly blinkered minds.

Today was a laugh (NOT). Went for a chat as I had a letter come through about thyroid level testing and I'm also nearing the big 50.

Met different doc (my good doc is now semi retired) so had to go through painful family history, again, was told I was being silly and they don't do 50 yr old checkups, not to bother about family history, bla, bla, keep taking the pills you have...............

OH! you were meant to have a follow up BP in April, (was I?) we'll just monitor your BP now............

So, one immediate prescription for Lisinopril later
(I think they should just do the BP test first before they piss you off) and back in a fortnight for bloods (sorry we need your schedule to match ours) ain't life grand!

GR
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Old 27th Oct 2010, 17:48
  #73 (permalink)  
 
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OK, I'm confused here. Been all through this thread and JAR-FCL3, neither really answers my question. Test has revealed that LDL is 166 (ref is lower than 130), total cholesterol is 233 mg/dl (should be less than 200), picked up at a random series of blood tests I did for something else and a million miles away from an AME.

I'm otherwise verty fit and healthy, plenty of exercise, quit smoking a while ago - middle age tends to drive you to be more sensible
So diet and exercise in my case are probably of limited value, but I'll just go ahead and do a bit more I suppose.
And no particular history of heart disease in the family either.

So is 166 disqualifying? (Its just over 7 mmol as far as I can figure).

Since JAR-FCL3 requires HDL/LDL lipids test at issue and at 40 yrs (I'm 45), the AME won't find it unless I tell him. Understand that I'm very much name, rank and serial number with the AME. I've been torched by them before and want as little to do with them as possible. And I fly CAR25 multicrew and have no intention of doing anything else, so the aviation safety issue is not relevant IMHO.

Thanks,
Max
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Old 27th Oct 2010, 18:20
  #74 (permalink)  
 
Join Date: Aug 2000
Location: Patterson, NY
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BandAide:

I used to run regularly but don't anymore. I'm 59
So? Do you consider 59 old? Too old to run? I'm 53 and run regularly.
On a treadmill, as my knees can no longer deal with pavement. (Comes from a few too many jumps out of a perfectly good aeroplane!)

I do like your 10-20-30 regime though. Nice way to start the day.

I too stay away from doctors. I too take aspirin. Every day. The 81mg variety. Supposed to be good for one's heart and circulatory system. The only drawback being: it causes the blood to thin out over time. Which is why I'm never warm enough. Well, almost never!
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Old 27th Oct 2010, 20:01
  #75 (permalink)  
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Keep away from the buggers. When things are really grim, they do not have a clue.

Quite right, wings. The questions they should ask - but never do are:

How long did your parents live ?
If dead, what did they die of ?

This should set the guide lines for the following examination, shouldn't it ? But rarely if ever does.

Personally I just go regularly to the dentist (don't want to end up gap-toothed) the eye-doctor (don't want to end up blind) and the dermatologist when something appears on my skin that I can't remove myself with knife, soldering iron, or nitrogen.

And meditate every morning on themes, among others, staying healthy. After an hour at the gym including sauna.

Otherwise, stuff 'em all, I know more about me than they do.

OFSO, 66 going on 67, and working harder in 'retirement' then I ever did when at 'work'.
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Old 27th Oct 2010, 20:16
  #76 (permalink)  
 
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How long did your parents live ?
If dead, what did they die of ?
I remember being forced to undergo a medical for my work.

"Is your father still alive?"
"No he is dead"
"What did he die of?"
"Heart attack, I believe."
"And his father?"
"Well, dead, too"
"Heart attack?" (he was getting interested at this point)
"No, he lost the fight between him and a shell in Mesopotamia in 1917. The shell won"
Doctor who had only just learned how to blow his nose had no clue what or where was Mesopotamia, just said "Hmm, I see, history of early demise in the male line of the family"

I left his surgery fairly soon after.
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Old 19th Jun 2011, 21:44
  #77 (permalink)  
 
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HAAHAHAHA,
My SISTER told me not her Husband
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Old 20th Jun 2011, 03:38
  #78 (permalink)  
 
Join Date: May 2002
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I started taking Fish Oil capsules....with all that Omega 3 stuff....and over time my HDL/LDL started setting records for correctness. Initially I took two capsules twice a day.....and have cut back to one capsule twice a day.

After I cut back.....all the neighborhood Cats seemed to lose interest in me for some reason! Also....heavy doses of fish oil works as a good Cough Medicine.....take enough and you don't dare cough!

The quack reckoned my blood sugar was out of control...ordered me on insulin only to be told who made the medical decisions in my life....and it was not he! Cinnamon (2400 MG) per day.....has also worked well. Quite possibly will cut out the prescription Metformin if this next blood test confirms the decrease.
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Old 20th Jun 2011, 06:14
  #79 (permalink)  
 
Join Date: Jun 2009
Location: ex everywhere
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Comic Relief

Sorry for the thread drift

Regards

TPAD

Hydraulics … Never My Favourite Subject

Having been kept waiting for the obligatory forty minutes I’m ushered into the Urologist’s consulting room. He is seated in his office chair, which is on wheels, and he uses his good foot to scrabble across the floor to meet me. The other is encased in white plaster. I see his toes sticking out the end of the plaster and I’m immediately struck by the fact that his toes are so long. With an instantaneous sense of dread, I look at the hand he has extended for me to shake. His fingers are as long as knitting needles. The big thick kind that your nanna uses to knit those disgusting Argyll sweaters. This is not looking good.

We swap small talk for a minute or so, then he invites me to the couch. The ultrasound is exactly the same as the one they use on pregnant women. I’m reasonably confident that’s not my problem.

He measures my prostate.

Turns out I have the K-Mart jumbo size. ( Damn, I knew I should have gone to the Warehouse …. Where everybody gets a bargain ). He promises me that should it prove necessary to remove it, he’ll have it stuffed and mounted on his mantle-piece as a one eighth scale model of The Hindenburg.

I try to laugh politely, but I know what’s coming next. He inspects my equipment at close range, which makes me feel very uncomfortable. It just doesn’t seem right to have another man fondling your doodle. I risk a peek over the top of the beach-ball I have cunningly concealed under my shirt. While I know that there is absolutely no possibility that he will be standing to attention, I hope forlornly that Captain Chubby will be giving a good account of himself. Parade Rest, at the very least. Alas it is not to be. Not only is he AWOL, he has been surreptitiously replaced with an anorexic earthworm that is trying hard to return to his mummy. He picks up my balls one at time, weighing them like a drug dealer who suspects he’s being ripped off. Without comment he invites me to roll to face the wall and pull my knees up, although I can hear him thinking “ hmm, just like a c**k, only smaller ”.

I hear the thwuck of the rubber glove and study the wall intently, cause here it comes. Well, dear reader, I’m here to tell you that there is no danger of me becoming gay anytime soon. How could any man possibly get any pleasure out of this? When he gets to my lungs he just pushes them out of the way and keeps going. Your average concert pianist would kill to have fingers as long as this guy’s and we both hit the high C together.

“Listen Bruce, while you’re in there could you slip a new O-ring on that valve that’s been giving me reflux, you just went past it.” My voice is a soprano squeak.

Jeeesus! How long is this going to take? It feels like he’s rummaging around looking for that Phillips-Head screwdriver he knows he left in there last Thursday.

After an eternity he withdraws. By now, I feel as if I’ve lost all control, and worry briefly about what might come out after his fist. Now, like nothing’s happened, he tells me to get my kit back on and returns to small talk.

It turns out he’s an aviation enthusiast and while I fumble with my fly, he asks a couple of incredibly stupid questions about the Boeing 777, and from this point on, we discuss my anatomy as if I was in the middle of a type-rating course.

“ If the prostate is so big ”, I ask naively “can’t you just take it out?”

“ Well I could” he says, “but the problem is that your prostate is connected by a PTU, to the Stand-pipe in the A System. The prostate is exerting pressure on the P Reservoir. You’re actually lucky that the PRSOV is still working or you’d be back to K-Mart for a pallet of Huggies … size small men’s. If we remove the prostate, the Gear will go down, but won’t come back up, if you catch my drift, committing you to a lifetime of missed approaches.”

“Okay … so what’s he answer?”

“Well, we’ll start you on a new type of Skydrol, which should bleed some pressure from the fifth stage, and get you back for a Borescope of the hot section in about six weeks.”

“Charming.”

The new type of Skydrol, now makes me like the walking dead in the Flight Of The Zombies in the daytime, and keeps me awake all bloody night. Perfect for a long-haul pilot! Sadly the CAA doesn’t share this view, and there’s no indication in the short term, of if, or when, I might get the medical back.

The good news is, I don’t give a bugger, if you catch my drift.


Part Two …. Eight Weeks Later …..

I look up from my book as the lady approaches. She wobbles to a halt in front of me, teeter-tottering on four inch heels, without which, she would be about five foot nothing.

“I’m Nurse Nightingale” she offers.

Yeah right, methinks, taking in the tiny black pencil skirt, and the plunging neckline of her white silk blouse. You can’t fool me lady … I’ve watched Shortland Street, and I know that hospital nurses wear those androginous baggy scrubs, and if your lucky, one of those little dufus hats with the silly pattern on it, that define the stars from the also-rans, not to mention sensible shoes. If you’re a nurse, I’m Jean-Claude Van Damme.

“We might like to empty our bladder now” she says, “so that we can get the best picture on the test”.

“Sorry, but I just had to go ten minutes ago at the mall, it was either that or I wouldn’t have made it here.” (and besides, when did it become ‘our’ bladder? )

“That’s quite okay , but even a litle bit would be good, it doesn’t matter if you are not up to a full flow test, but I’ll just leave the machine on anyway. Just help yourself to the funnel.”

She lurches off down the corridor with me in, well… lukewarm pursuit, arms out in front of me to catch her when she falls.
(Chivalry is not dead ).

I stand in front of the funnel for a full two minutes before anything happens, and when it does, it’s just a pathetic dribble. I hear the machine adjacent start up to record my inadequacies. It looks like a seismo-graph, and if this was happening a couple of years ago, it would be jumping off the drum, like Force 8 on the Richter Scale, as I peed like a stallion. Now it merely mocks my gallant attempt.

Nurse Nightingale grabs my arm as I exit, and ushers me into the chamber of horrors, and seats me next to the Urologist’s desk.
After a couple of minutes, he hobbles in. The plaster-cast is gone and he’s back on two legs, albeit with a pronounced limp. We swap small talk for a few minutes about the effect of the drugs, and my performance in the rack. At this time I’m very concious of Nurse Nightingale hovering in the background, attempting to keep a straight face.

“Well come on over to the couch” he invites, and promptly disappears into the next room.

“ Come on Big Boy … Drop em … you know the drill.”

Big Boy ? Oh, you are too kind …. If only ….

Now she justs stands directly in front of me looking pointedly at my nether regions waiting for me to down trou’. We have a brief mexican stand-off, while I deliberatly take my time undoing my belt and top button.

‘Avert yer eyes, you wanton hussy’, I think. But it’s no use. She wobbles on those heels, but her eyes are twin [email protected] with gyro- stabilization. I am tele-ported back in time to Room Six at St Heliers Primary School. The time Miss Gibson came into the boy’s changing room after swimming lessons, ostensibly to hurry us along to the next lesson, when in fact, she had overheard a C**k Size Comparison test in full swing, and had come in for a good perv on a bunch of eight year-olds.

Is that smoke I can smell ? I look down, expecting to see my zipper on fire ; such is the intensity of those [email protected] To hell with it ! I boldly drop my strides and remove my knickers.

“Hop up on the couch.” she says , holding a cuddle rug up in front of her chest as if to ward off my inevitable advances. I plonk my butt, and swing my legs up, and at this point, Captain Chubby is fully revealed for her to see.

Except that he’s not there ! The anorexic earthworm who acted as his stand-in on my last visit has succumbed to the rigors of the disease, and has been replaced by a fossilized twig. With every neuron and synapse firing , I will him to move, but nothing happens, not even a playful roll-over.

She pauses for an indecently long time before dropping the blankie, and tries to mask an involuntary snort of derision with a small cough, but I know she just can’t wait to get back to the nurse’s station and tell the girls she’s just seen a guy with no dick.

The Urologist is back, and whips the cuddle rug away, and immediately grabs my todger. He’s not even wearing any gloves !
I physically cringe with even more embarassment when Nurse Nightingale appears at his shoulder and joins in the close order inspection.

“Roll over and pull your knees up,” he says, “this is a bit like having a filling done in your tooth.”

“ Clearly it’s escaped your notice I respond, “but most dentists work from the other end !”

“ I’ll just examine the Hindenberg again , to check for changes, then we’ll get into the biopsy”.

It turns out he is Doctor Bruce Scissorhands, younger brother of Edward Scissorhands and first cousin to Freddy Krueger. Time stands still now for the longest ten minutes in eternity, as he pushes, pulls and prods from a variety of angles. Just like a filling be buggered ! I have never experienced so much pain and for a while I feel I may pass out. I hear a metallic snap every time he pulls the trigger on whatever macheavellian machine he has pushed up to where my tonsils used to reside. When he swaps from one side of the Hindenberg to the other he apologises, but I’m down at the extreme end of a tunnel of pain and can only just hear him.

Together the two of them keep up a constant barrage of small-talk.
Oh, good grief people ! Do you seriously think that if you ask me enough stupid questions about life in the Sandpit or SE Asia, that I will fail to notice the four foot length of toledo steel eel that you’ve shoved up my jacksie?

At last it’s over, and as quickly as he came, Doctor Bruce departs, hopefully to cough up his lunch. Nurse Nightingale invites me to just lie back, and relax like it was some sort of post-coital recovery time, but out of the corner of my eye I can see that she is inserting a woman’s sanitary pad in my knickers.“ Just in case of a bit of spotting” she says, like I’m a Labrador bitch in heat.

I reassemble some attempt at decorum, oblivious to her gaze.
How do I feel now? Well, comprehensively raped to be candid. I can now get a job as a drug mule smuggling cocaine out of Columbia. Two kilos won’t even touch the sides ! If I get caught even the gorilla in cell 13A can have his way with me. …. I’m confident it won’t hurt.

Dr Bruce reappears, writes out a prescription with enough drugs to start a second pharmacy, and tells me it will be a week to get a result. The Pathologist has an important pro-am four day golf tournament at Kauri Cliffs. I totally understand.
I hobble, waddle, ooze back to the front desk. There are five couples in the waiting room. I put on my bravest stoic face as they expectantly check me out for collateral damage.

I’m not sure now whether the tears in my eyes are from the pain in my arse or the pain in my wallet. I didn’t expect to have to buy the bugger a new Porshe Cayenne. I nod empathetically at the old codger at the end with the white hair, while thinking “ Mate, you’re only the leather upholstery upgrade”.

By the time the lift has descended to the ground floor, I’m urgently in need of the loo. I only just get there in time by using the disabled
facility. Never mind, under the circumstances I think I qualify. I’m still at only a forty five degree target angle when something lets go with a woosh. Again I feel I might pass out, and look hesitantly at the call button.

After a few minutes I compose myself enough to stand. My plumbing doesn’t seem to be functioning in a seated position so I do a 180 ’ and look down. Clearly that she-devil upstairs has been economical with the facts. There’s enough blood in there to float a pocket battleship. In fact I fully expect a Japanese Whaler to come steaming around the S-Bend towing a pod of sperm whales. I do catch a glimpse of the dorsal fin of a 14 foot Hammerhead shark that is circling in anticipation of a feeding frenzy.

I flush, but only half of the mess dissappears. Oh that’s just great !
I have just parted with enough money to run a Pacific Island nation for six months and now I have to clean their toilets ? At least they have left a brush.

Thankful now for the Libra Fleur in my jocks, I make my way back to the lobby, using the wall intermittantly for support.

I should get a result next Tuesday. It could be a long week.
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Old 20th Jun 2011, 10:54
  #80 (permalink)  
 
Join Date: Jan 2006
Location: In the Doghouse
Posts: 363
tpad, that is the funniest article i have read in ages
so far i have not needed the D Check inspection........
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