Yavorek

One of the side-effects of the sun going down earlier each day, as it does approaching winter, is that we often begin supper before the Evening-News is finished taping.
So here we are last night (Tuesday, November 25, 2008) watching the ABC-Evening-News-With-Charles-Gibson live.
An unfortunate side-effect of live TV-news viewing is that we can’t zap the ads.
Sally Field, heavily made-up, and hair obviously dyed, is extolling the wondrous virtues of Boniva®.
“And my Doctor told me something very important,” she said.
“Well, my Doctor tried to tell me something very important,” I cried; “and I told him to get stuffed.”
This didn’t actually happen, but a pretty close approximation did.
It just so happens I had to visit my Doctor yesterday, a Dr. Yavorek (“ya-VORE-ick”) at Bloomfield Family Practice.
A medication was running out, and they wouldn’t renew it unless I did a checkup.
So I strode in the waiting-room, and a 74-year-old woman was spaced out on a chair.
“I don’t know, Dorothy,” Yavorek said. “Ya look bad to me; I think we oughta call the ambulance.”
Yavorek strode into the back: “Call the ambulance,” he said to his staff. “And get her back into an exam room.”
“So how ya doin’, Mr. Hughes?” he said, turning to me.
“Pretty good,” I said. “At least I ain’t gotcha callin’ the ambulance.”

Yavorek and I always have a good time.
In my almost 65 years on this planet. I’d say he is the best Doctor I’ve had yet.
But that’s coming off my last Doctor, my worst Doctor, the drug-pusher, old halitosis-breath.
My last doctor was affiliated with an HMO we joined back when HMOs were imperative.
Imperative in that Transit required it for my hospitalization insurance.
Old halitosis-breath was the one that told my wife I’d be a vegetable after my stroke.
Made me mad as a hornet. Don’t know how cogent I was at that time, but “I’m gonna prove you wrong, Doc!”
Yavorek came along after halitosis-breath quit, and it was apparent we could choose another medical-provider — e.g. no longer the faraway HMO that treated you like a number.
We were assigned a new Doctor at the HMO, but she quit in a couple months when she saw she couldn’t practice the Hippocratic Oath.
And so Yavorek, whose first assignment was to science out my “episodes.”
I got referred around, wore a heart-monitor one night, and finally a neurologist suggested the episodes might be a side-effect of the calcium-blocker blood-pressure medication I was taking.
End of calcium-blocker.
He also referred me to a Physical Therapy for balance, and they said the best way to control blood-pressure was to get back in shape.
Well yeah, of course. I thereafter dropped about 25 pounds using their treadmill.
Not too long ago we dropped the cholesterol medication too; although Yavorek was for it.
“I’m told a brain-injured person like me might need more cholesterol than the average person,” I said.
“Sounds like your wife has been hittin’ that Internet again,” Yavorek said. “How am I supposed to be a revered medical icon if my patients are always researchin’ everything I do?”
“Ya could drop the cholesterol medication, and we’ll see what happens. Your cholesterol is only marginal anyway, and that dosage is tiny.”
Another visit we pursued my widdling.
Around-and-around we went.
“I gave them guys at Urology Associates the third degree.”
“I’m sure you did,” Yavorek said. “I’m glad it wasn’t me.”
“They told me two-to-three times a night was average for someone my age, and also did a prostate biopsy.”
Our third visit was to see Yavorek to determine whether my wife’s tumor warranted follow-up.
“Not me this time,” I said; “my wife.”
Follow-up determined it was cancerous lymphoma, and that was beaten back at Wilmot Cancer Center.
So yada-yada-yada-yada in the exam room yesterday.
“So what do you do in your spare time, Mr. Hughes?”
“I write junk to get my siblings all upset. It’s slam-dunk easy.”
“I won’t go there,” he said.
We walked out of the exam room to do bloodwork.
The ambulance crew wheeled a yellow gurney down the hall.
“Holy mackerel!” I said to Yavorek.
“Have ya got a splint?” the ambulance techies asked. “She’s got a broken clavicle.”
“Nope. But she also complained of chest-pains, and looked awful.”
Probably fell.
“I just ate a peanut-butter sandwich,” I said.
“Maybe we should do the blood-test tomorrow morning as a fasting blood-test,” Yavorek said.
The ambulance crew wheeled the lady out. “Excuse us,” BANG! “Excuse us,” THUMP!
“I’ll call the hospital and tell them you’re coming,” Yavorek said.
“Please call my son,” said the lady, rattling off the phone-number.
I get the impression her appearance, and chest-pain, were more her broken clavicle.
But she did look awful.
If Yavorek had blown it, it’s better to err as he did.
Otherwise the lady could sue him up the patooty.

RE: “Before the Evening-News is finished taping.......” —Every night we videotape the news so that we can view it later while eating supper.

“Zap the ads” is to Fast-Forward the ads to avoid viewing.

“HMO” equals “Health-Maintenance-Organization.”

“Transit” equals Regional Transit Service, the transit-bus operator in Rochester, NY, where I drove transit-bus for 16&1/2 years (1977-1993).

RE: “Old halitosis-breath.....” —My previous Doctor had bad breath — probably periodontal disease. He’d come in my exam room, shake my hand, and exhale; just about knocking me out cold. —He loved to prescribe drugs; probably over-medicated me.

I had a stroke October 26, 1993.

RE: “Episodes......” —Almost three years ago I was experiencing dizzy-spells (“episodes”), but not any more. They’re why I retired.

“Widdling” is urination.

My wife of 40+ years is “Linda.” She had lymphatic cancer, but it was treatable — she survived. She still has it — i.e. it will return sometime — but no evidence thereof at the moment.