Preying on the Fear of Older People?

My doctor’s office just called. Her nurse told me my first nutritionist class starts Monday.

I remember the doctor asking if I’d go to a Nutritionist if she referred me and I said yes. That was just last week at my yearly “physical”. She didn’t tell me it would be a three day event and in a town 15 miles from here, which amounts to a 30 mile drive each day that I go. One day the class lasts all day. The first day I will be taught how to read labels. Uh, I think I already know how to do that.

I hate driving. I just drove to the dentist, who is also in another town, yesterday. It was a horrendous experience and I don’t know how many more times I can make that trip. I was going 65, which was the speed limit and cars were whizzing by me like I was standing still.

The dentist says I need a tooth capped. Frankly I had been considering having any misbehaving teeth pulled. I’m tired of root canals and caps and all the other things dentists do to try to “save a tooth”.

Anyway, I let the dentist’s office set up the crown appointment, but I doubt I go. I am going to think about it a few more days and then probably call and cancel.

We have terrible rainstorms forecast for the next five days. That should take care of the Nutritionist’s visit – I expect they will be closed Monday, but I plan to call and cancel tomorrow anyway.

I need to go get the oil in my car changed in case I have to evacuate. No one understands I have things to do. They see a person who is on disability leave from work with “all that time”  on my hands. They want to fill it.

I want to live whatever days I have left in enjoyment. It may be one, it may be 6,000, but I don’t want to spend them driving here, there and yonder to add time to my life. I have worked over forty years. I started working at age 13. I have raised 3 sons, mostly by myself.

Soon I’m going to tell the medical professionals to “LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE” and go prey on some other old person for all their classes and procedures and tests and shots, etc. This one is going to be busy LIVING until she draws her last breath. If I get sick and die, then I get sick and die. I have filled 12 prescriptions in the last month. TWELVE PRESCRIPTIONS! I’m not even filling everything that’s been prescribed because I am an intelligent person. I’m a MENSA member, for God’s sake! I research the prescribed medicines. If someone can have an allergic reaction to a medicine, it will be me. I was in a drug trial clinic testing a drug – Vioxx – and of course, I was the only member of the group to have a reaction. I got high blood pressure during that test and have had it ever since. I HAD to have the money for something that will be explained in my book about the Blindman, or I wouldn’t have been there doing that.

Drugs will KILL YOU. Doctors will KILL YOU. I have a friend right now battling air in one of her arteries. How do you think it got there? I would think it was doctor or nurse mistake.

NO! I am DONE! I will NOT go to medical facilities every other day to try to extend my life.

I’ll take the prescribed meds for the conditions I know I have. Some of the prescribed meds will NOT be taken.

I know many people would argue with me. Many do. So I’ve quit telling them anything.

I’m DONE! Sometimes I think having medical insurance is as much a curse as it is a blessing. If I couldn’t pay for it, you can believe no one would think I needed the test or the treatment. Even doctors refuse some treatments for themselves.

Now I’m going to go get the car’s oil changed in case I have to evacuate – maybe my twenty year old car will make it. I’m old. The car’s old. No amount of pills is going to change some things.

To ALL the doctors and dentists and specialists out there, here’s an idea. Leave ME alone. We old people know we’re closer to death than we used to be. Quit trying to scare death away with prescriptions and tests and classes and office visits and crowns and time wasted waiting in your offices.

I will enjoy my last days without all the medical folks who suddenly want to intrude on my time. This is MY time. Not yours. I’m not afraid of dying; I’m afraid of never having lived. This is MY time.


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