Posted by: Jeremiah Graves | March 20, 2012

A Story Explaining Why I Don’t (but Should) Go to the Doctor

I don’t go to the doctor.

It’s not that I have anything against modern medicine. It’s just that I’m a pretty healthy dude.

Sure, sure…on occasion my left lung will randomly collapse or whatever, but other than that, I’m pretty much healthy as a horse.

Like, a super healthy horse.

In fact, the last time I was in a doctor’s office was September 2007—after lung collapse number three—to get a physical and the doctor told me that I was fit as a fiddle, but in—you know—doctor terminology, not Midwestern hayseed terminology.

After that I just haven’t had a good reason to go to the doctor, so I haven’t.

There have been plenty of aches and pains and scrapes and bloody wounds and whatnot, but nothing that I couldn’t handle at home with some gauze, Neosporin, and Maker’s Mark.

Today, however, I read a story that’s got me rethinking this whole “not going to the doctor” thing.

Sometimes, when you think you’re fine and something feels amiss, it could be pretty f’n major.

Granted, if you’re going to a doctor in Spain, you could also get blown off and completely misdiagnosed…so, uh, there’s that.

What am I rambling about? Well here’s the story from United Press International:

A woman in Barcelona, Spain, is taking legal action against a hospital where doctors misdiagnosed a 24-pound, cancerous uterine tumor as a late-term pregnancy.

The woman, whose name has not been released, told ThinkSpain she went to a hospital emergency room suffering from excruciating abdominal pain, only to be “treated with contempt.”

She alleges doctors quipped, “Haven’t you ever heard of contraception?” and told her she was in the advanced stages of pregnancy, chalking her pains up to a panic attack. After two negative pregnancy tests, she returned to the hospital and urged doctors to examine her further, ThinkSpain reported Saturday.

When she was finally given an ultrasound, she said, “the doctor said, ‘Gosh, what a huge cyst.” She is now undergoing chemotherapy, and has opened a case with the patients’ ombudsman.

Holy balls, right?!

How in the blue hell do you misdiagnose a 24-pound tumor for a baby and not lose your medical license on the spot?

I can’t help but think that there shouldn’t be any sort of three strikes and you’re out kind of thing with something like this. Maybe you can get away with that if you misdiagnose a couple of colds or odd-looking rashes or something, but a tumor-baby mixup?

No way.

That’s gotta be some one-and-done stuff right there.

Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Proceed directly to the unemployment office.

Hell, I’m pretty sure the gal should be allowed three or four free punches to the face on this one too.

Anyway, the moral of this story seems to be that a trip to the doctor can be a good thing…assuming of course that he’s not a complete shithead.


Responses

  1. Remember the time my (now) husband broke your arm and I bandaged it with an ace bandage and ice pack and then you proceeded to work a shift at Godfather’s? I’m pretty much a doctor.

    • In my defense…I barely remember it…thanks to the brain trauma that went with it!

  2. I remember it. I believe my question to you was, “What are the chances of you going to see a doctor?” I can’t exactly remember you pithy reply, but I took it to mean you would not be seeking medical attention.

    • …and it all turned out okay.

      I think?! Again…brain trauma. It’s all a big blur.

  3. I don’t understand how she waited so long to see a doctor. I imagine that a 10 pound tumor causes some kind of discomfort as well. Or even a 3 pound tumor; if three pounds of tumor were resting on my ovaries all day, every day, I’d spend all of my time stalking doctors until they figured out what the hell was going on.

    • I think that’s the part that confuses me most about all of this, how do you mysteriously gain that much weight and not think to go into the doctor so much earlier?!


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