Wool & Words

Urine is diagnostic magic.

Every time I visit any doc, I have to pee on command. This gets harder each time and I really don't understand why I just don't get a cup from them the night before so that I can bring it in fresh. But I digress. Urine can apparently tell them something about EVERYTHING that's going on in my body. Someone should just tell House to have his patients pee in a cup every few hours; might cut down on all those lumbar punctures and MRIs.

Overhead costs must be next to nothing.

As I sat in the office, I noticed that the room was full of non-medicinal supplies covered in ads. Allegra-supplied hand soap (what?). Tissues hawking Seroquel. A magazine rack from Lilly. I wanted to request a gown to see what it might be selling. The best, though? I looked between my knees at the paper covering the exam table and realized that I'd been sitting on a giant Viagra ad. Lots of little blue pills (which, I discovered, are trademarked by Pfizer).

Advertising leads to mistrust.

As I sat in the office bathroom, desperately trying to produce the required sample (see #1 above), I was staring at a long, red poster discussing the dangers of osteogenesis imperfecta and counseling ladies in red hats to see their doctor to find out more. There were great photos of the cross-sections of healthy and not-so bones, and a super magnification of one bone area to show a microfracture. Very cool and scary--who wants such holey swiss cheese holding up their bodies? Must drink more milk. I felt, though, a bit skeptical and I realize it's because I don't trust the word of a company. The poster was not quite an ad--they weren't hawking a particular product--and yet it felt suspect because it was provided by a pharma co. I sat there and stared at the red-hatted ladies and tried to figure out what they were selling. What was the angle? Why was I being encouraged to worry about my bone density? Surely it couldn't be just because I should be concerned, eh?

When did I grow to be so mistrusting?