[Otclassof1973] WHOOP & WHOOP AGAIN

[neufsaid at juno.com]

Russ, thanks for piping up and really sorry to hear you had your own
experience.  I've had pneumonia and the Whoop is right up there in the
same pantheon - if anything, the WC takes even longer to get over.  This
is week 18 (Jimeney Christmas!) and I think I can finally start
exercising again this coming weekend.  That's 4 1/2 months for any metric
conversionally challenged people out there.

While I'm finally getting better, my rant was part of the whole holistic
emotional/physical recovery process for the illness AND my grossly
mis-managed health care.  Ironically my HMO just launched a new ad
campaign (their catchword is "Thrive!") that plays heavily on how
"caring" and "knowledgeable" their doctors are.  The ad is voiced by
Christine Lahti who just lost me as a fan.  Can't help myself, it's a
Pavlov thang. 

I mentioned I planned to submit my piece to the endpaper of my local
Sunday newspaper's magazine.  You really can find anything on the
internet, took me half a minute to get all the particulars, including the
editor's submittal email address.  There were but two simple caveats - it
had to be 900 words long (editing down from what had burgeoned up to 1200
words actually tightened it and gave it more immediacy), they also said
they weren't very interested in stories about illnesses; but I decided
"not very interested in stories about illnesses" wasn't the same as
"never, ever even think about submitting stories about illnesses," so I
sucked it up and submitted anyway.  

After applying about a bazillion and one of those unnecessary, yet oh, so
important anal retentive tweaks, I bit down hard on the proverbial bullet
and emailed it over to the editor.  That was Friday.  On Monday the
editor sent me an email saying (direct quote), "Wow, I just got to this.
Pretty fascinating. I'd like to run it by one more person before I say
yes, but I'm definitely inclined that way."  On Tuesday she called my
cell and said they're going to run it, probably in January; but if things
shake out differently in the interim they may run it even sooner.  

I'm feeling totally money, baby.  It's possible I even whooped.

Next on my to do list is filing that grievance with my much beloved
H-M-uh-Oh.  Can't be sure, but I thrink I seriously pulled my thrive.  Is
the thrive located closer to the thrix or the threven?  Y'know, my throur
is pretty sore.  I'm just sayin'.  

Ouch, there goes my thrifteen.  I really should be more careful.

Marvin

PS/ I'm including the final version, as submitted, below.  Trust me, 900
words exactly.
PPS/ Just so you know, my threight feels great.  My thrwo, not too.

#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9#9
My illness is due to 
my doctor's insistence that I drink milk, 
a whitish fluid they force down helpless babies.
WC Fields

Whoop It Up

      A representative from Communicable Disease Control & Prevention
(CDCP), with the San Francisco Department of Public Health, called. 
Nothing to be concerned about, he was only following up on my having been
recently diagnosed with Whooping Cough.  It’s on the rise in the Bay Area
and doctors are required to report cases immediately, as it can kill
infants and the elderly; just a routine call.  
      Asked to describe my symptoms, I told him I’d been coughing hard
enough to pull three separate intercostal muscles in my ribcage before
being diagnosed with the Whoop.   Coughing so hard it made me throw up
and pass out
 three times a day
 every day
 for a few weeks.  I thought
that involuntary noise I made after every single coughing jag sounded
like Elmer Fudd trying to laugh while inhaling.  Who knew they called it
a whoop? 
      According to Mr. CDCP, my symptoms were “classic textbook examples
of Whooping Cough.”  Here I was, presenting textbook Whooping Cough
symptoms and every Bay Area hospital was alerted to the Whooping Cough
outbreak.  What luck, I’d be diagnosed in no time.   
      Funny that it took five separate doctors, 14 weeks to finally
diagnose my case; but then, mine were textbook symptoms.
      Week one, the first doctor told me I had Bronchitis, prescribed a
five-day course of Zithromax and told me I’d feel better in a week.
      Week two, the second doctor, my usual physician, didn’t see any
reason to change my original diagnosis, prescribed cough syrup and told
me I’d feel better in a week.
      Week three I rushed down to the Emergency Room after coughing so
hard I threw up and passed out
 twice.  In the Emergency Room my third
doctor drew three small vials of blood for lab tests, re-hydrated me and
told me I’d feel better in a week.
      Week four I pulled an intercostal muscle in my ribcage from
coughing.  Intercostals are the muscles that keep your ribs in place when
you breathe.  It felt like being stabbed
 with a spoon; I was still
throwing up and passing out, regularly.  My second doctor was busy and
asked if her colleague could look at my case.  Doctor number four
prescribed more cough syrup, non-aspirin Acetaminophen and told me I’d
feel better in a week.
      Week six I pulled a second intercostal muscle; I was throwing up a
little less, wasn’t passing out anymore and if I barely ate, I could
almost make it through a full day of work without throwing up.
      By week 12 I’d pulled a third intercostal muscle and if I hardly
ate anything I could nearly control the throwing up.  Doctor number two
agreed that something ought to be done, prescribed more cough syrup and
told me I’d feel better in a week.  This time I insisted on getting to
the root of my illness, so she scheduled a Spirometry Test to measure my
lung capacity.  My results came back normal; if throwing up on my first
try is considered normal.  The technician told me some people cough so
hard they can actually crack or even break their ribs; so my three pulled
intercostals, while painful, could have been even worse.
      Week 13 and test number two was a CAT Scan.  On hearing this Mr.
CDCP commented, “But a CAT Scan costs much more than a simple blood
test.”  Doctor number two’s assistant called to tell me there was nothing
to be concerned about, but my Scan showed telltale signs that my ribcage
had been bruised quite recently
 in three separate places.  Doctor number
two said, firmly through her assistant, there would be no more tests. 
Unfazed, I asked for a referral to see an allergist and the assistant
called back to say doctor number two didn’t have to refer me to the
Allergy Department, I could make my own appointment.  I asked for the
Allergy Department’s phone number and although my question seemed to
surprise the assistant, she was kind enough to look it up for me.
      Week 14 found me sitting in doctor number five’s office in the
Allergy Department.  Within two minutes of describing my symptoms he told
me I had Whooping Cough and sent me to have blood drawn for another lab
test.  I didn’t think to ask what happened to the three blood samples
doctor number three took earlier in week three or about the results from
those tests.  A few days later doctor number five called to say my
results were positive for Whooping Cough and prescribed a course of
Zithromax.  
      Now, doctor number one had prescribed Zithromax way back in week
one
 three and a half months ago, when she diagnosed me with Bronchitis;
but Bronchitis requires a five-day course of Zithromax and Whooping Cough
requires a 10-day course.  For Whooping Cough the dosage should also be
doubled, but that just seems like nitpicking.
      Week 15 and here’s where you came in.  The fellow from CDCP just
told me my symptoms were “classic textbook examples of Whooping Cough.” 
After nearly four months I still have this lingering cough; but now I
know that sound I make isn’t just a whoop, it’s a classic textbook whoop.
 I’m only retching a couple of times a day and the constant pain from my
three pulled intercostals is down to a dull ache.  
      On the plus side, doctor number five tells me I’ll feel better
 in
a week.
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