Let’s throw drugs at it.

Couldn’t get my regular doctor. They asked if I’d accept another doctor. . My first thought was that I’d accept a witch doctor if it meant getting in now. I didn’t say that out loud, though.

So I got a stand-in instead. His name reminded me of Chumley. I did not take that as a good sign. But when you hurt, even Dr. Chumley sounds acceptable.

They gave me an appointment in an hour. I made the necessary calls, left work, and got to the office with a few minutes to spare. Entering, I looked for Dr. Chumley’s name on the door. There he was, at the bottom of the list:

OK, my heart sank just a little bit further. I don’t want to get into a debate with you pro-osteopath people, but I’ve had poor luck with osteopaths. I’m all for the whole-body approach to medicine, but my experience has been that they’re a little too eager to let my body heal myself. If I’m going to a doctor, it means that I’ve already given my body a chance and now I’m ready to call in the reserves to deal with the situation.

After less than five minutes of waiting, I was called back to the exam room. Dr. Chumley showed up, clipboard in hand. I explained the pain I was having, and my suspicion that it was a disc probem. He checked out my neck, and found a mild area of sensitivity. He concurred it was a disc problem.

He then surprised me. No chiropractic-type alignments. No MRI. No physical therapy. Just a prescription for steroids. And when I complained that the pain kept me awake at night, another prescription for a morphine compound, to be taken at bed time. The visit was over and done in less than ten minutes. He didn’t even want to see me back.

I’ll do the prescriptions – the steroids will help the inflamation, and the pain rates morphine, so far as I’m concerned. But I’ll have to remember that I really should bite the bullet and wait until I can see my regular doctor next time.