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I've never been particularly good at taking what I consider to be unnecessary advice about how to take care of myself, so it's no surprise that I positively dread going for a visit with my physician. But, because I need several "maintenance" medications for a serious medical condition, I endure my twice-yearly visit with him with the sole objective of leaving his office with my pile of refill orders (and a wallet $125.00 lighter).
To his credit, he has no illusions about me as a patient. He knows I smoke, but doesn't lecture me. He knows I enjoy a beer or two (or three...), but he doesn't lecture me. He knows one of the reasons I still see him, even though his office doesn't accept my insurance plan, is so I can continue to receive my prescription refills, and to change to a different physician at this point would probably mean referrals to a costly specialist to determine if the medications are achieving their "optimal effect", and I'm just not having that. When my medications stop achieving their optimal effect, everyone will know because in the event they no longer work I will have shuffled off this mortal coil.
As physicians go, he's a fairly pleasant person. The only time I've gotten a dressing-down from him was when my blood pressure and cholesterol count were found to be abnormally high and he was right to be angry. While some people have to work hard by monitoring diet and exercise to get these things under control, in my case, the conditions are hereditary, and simply taking two tiny pills a day prescribed by him whips my body back into submission in no time. So, I have to conclude that while my physician can tolerate a somewhat irresponsible patient, he simply will not suffer a lazy one.
If I had any doubts about this conclusion, they were silenced today when I told him I had not taken two medical tests he had ordered for me six months ago. His reaction, which to me seemed to be bordering on apoplectic fit, made me realize I'd gone too far and I should just take the tests he ordered and be done with it. The problem is, I simply don't want to take the tests. It's not that they're painful; women have them done every day (there's a clue for you..), but I've adopted the childish stance of "no-I-don't-wanna-and-you-can't-make-me" and he's sitting across the desk saying "oh, yeah"?
At the end of the day I think it boils down to not liking to be told what I should and shouldn't do with my own body. I'm up to hearing advice, but should I have to take it? Can't I as an educated adult be able to make my own decision about what health care I chose to receive as opposed to what my physician tells me is necessary? Morally, I should be able to refuse the medical tests he's insisting on, but, practically, it's not a good idea. Sacrificing the convenient doctor-patient relationship I have with him would be like cutting my nose off to spite my face. And then I'd have to find a brand new doctor to fix it.
