When we were kids we got flu and we went to the doctor and he said, say aaaah and he tapped our chest and bobbed the ’scope on the back, you gave him a deep breath or two and he and you were on the same page cos he said, you have flu. And you went home and had chicken soup and an aunt said nothing like turmeric in warm milk and the whole room smelled of VapoRub and three days later you were fine and it was an opportunity to get a teaspoonful of brandy and feel adult and wicked.
Now, you wait 100 minutes in the emergency room then they call your name and make you fill forms and it is finally your turn and you say, i have the flu and the doc says, whatever, we will have to first eliminate Anthrax, Lyme Disease and infective endocarditis.
Then he tells you to get this shopping list of tests done. Room 13 for swab, room 8 for blood test (RBCs, WBCs, C-Protein count), room 9 for BP and height (why height, i am seventy years old, i will not grow any taller even if i have my milk), room 4 for chest x-ray. Doc, doc, i don’t need rapid influenza diagnostic tests (RIDTs), i know i have the flu.
After the bloodletting and eleventy eleven payments you have now made it to Accounts, a room full of strangers, all of them exhaling gusts of bacteria and viruses and it is two hours for the results to come even though you paid for urgent and as you sit there, sick as a dog desperately avoiding the man heaving through coughing fits, these are the pleasures of a medical waiting room. Just about when you feel you might as well go home and shoot yourself, the nurse calls your name and you follow her with simpering gratitude and the doctor looks solemn and you sit down and your mind is going whirr whirr because maybe you have Scrub Typhus or Rocky Mountain spotted fever or as Google told you while you were sleepless last night it might be cat scratch, even though we do not have cats.
And then the doctor, as doctors are inclined to do, he shuffles all the papers and the reports and there is one report that has Influenza A-positive underlined and ticked by the lab and the doc looks wisely at you and says, you have flu. I know, doc, it is written there, i can see it, i told you eight people in the house have it, but you wouldn’t listen. Thank goodness, though, we are on the same page.
DISCLAIMER : This article is intended to bring a smile to your face. Any connection to events and characters in real life is coincidental.