Sunday, April 28, 2024 | 2 a.m.
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I would call myself a relatively healthy person. I work out fairly frequently, five to six days per week. I also eat relatively well.
But I’m 40 years old now. While my food and workout schedule has not changed much, my body certainly has. Things hurt that never used to hurt. My back. My knees.
In my 40 years, I have never broken a bone. I have never suffered a calamity that required hospitalization. And until last December, I had never even pulled a muscle. That traumatic event had me googling life insurance policies the following day.
But there’s also something else that I haven’t had. I have never in my adult life had a primary care physician.
Have I seen doctors from time to time? Yes. I had to get a physical to work at UPS in college. When I was in a car accident, I went to urgent care as a precaution.
I don’t have a primary care physician because, for starters, scheduling doctor’s appointments is an absolutely maddening experience. I have personally scheduled four doctor’s appointments in my life. I remember the number because each experience was so infuriating.
Each time, I recall going to the website referenced on my insurance card to find a doctor that was “in network.” As a brief aside, the first time I tried scheduling an appointment, I didn’t know the difference between “in network” and “out of network.” A co-worker had to explain to me the difference, including the serious financial implications.
Anyways, after spending roughly 20 to 30 minutes finding a provider that was both located near me and had good patient reviews, I would call the number listed to make an appointment. To my surprise, any number of rage-inducing events would follow. The number might no longer work. Someone may pick up, who would then say that I called the wrong number. Someone may pick up, who would then say that the doctor no longer practiced at that facility. The search process would have to start all over again.
Sometimes, the stars would align. I would call the number listed. Someone would pick up and tell me that I had indeed called the right office. Moreover, the doctor was accepting new patients. After asking when the next available appointment was, I would then be told some date two to three months in the future. After a few seconds of silence, the scheduler would try to empathize, “Yeah, I know, people like this doctor.”
After enduring the tremendous hassle of scheduling, I expected the doctor’s appointment to be a worthwhile experience. It never was. Four appointments scheduled, four wastes of sick time.
At each visit, I spent more time filling out paperwork before the appointment than I did with the doctor during the appointment. After spending what felt like forever sitting on that exam table, in that always-freezing room, shifting around on that strip of white butcher paper, the doctor would come in and make a brief introduction. In response to my pain reports, I would get a sheet of paper containing home exercises to do to remedy the pain. My final advisement would be that, if the exercises didn’t work after a couple of months, I should schedule another appointment.
Suffice it to say, I never scheduled another appointment. I was seen by a doctor, but I did not feel seen. My doctors never seemed to understand that, by the time I had gotten to them, I had done everything I thought I could to avoid going there in the first place. I would search Google and YouTube to find exercises or home remedies which promised to remedy my pain. The doctor’s office was the last resort to resolve my issues, not the first. Providing a person like me with a worksheet of home exercises isn’t helpful, it’s dismissive.
Now, ask yourself, if this was your experience, would you keep going back for more? They say insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results. I’ve been called many things over my 40 years, but insane is not one of them.
But this year, I’m going to indulge in a little bit of insanity. I have committed myself to finding a primary care physician by the end of the year. U.S. adults who regularly see a primary care physician have 33% lower health care costs and 19% lower odds of dying prematurely than those who see only a specialist, according to a nonprofit coalition that advocates the use of primary care doctors.
I owe it to myself to do whatever I can to remain in good health. I owe it to my family. And I owe it to my friends, the family I chose. You have the same obligations as I do. As they say, health truly is wealth.
The day after I began writing this column, I suffered a serious injury while playing basketball. I believe I ruptured my Achilles tendon. That’s what I get for boasting about my health.
Anyways, I went straight from the gym to urgent care for treatment. I spent 20 minutes filling out paperwork. I saw the nurse for 10 minutes. I told her what I think happened. I felt like someone kicked my calf. My ankle and heel had swollen. I required a wheelchair. I said my pain was 10 out of 10.
In response, she had me take an X-ray. She said, “Good news! Nothing is broken.” She offered me pain medication and said, “If it still hurts after two weeks, schedule an appointment with an orthopedic doctor.” She then said, “Do you need crutches?”
I scheduled an appointment with an orthopedic doctor as soon as I got home. Best health care system in the world. At least, that’s what they tell me.
Eric Foster is a columnist for cleveland.com.
