A rhetorical question when asked by your GP. Unless you are there for a ‘well man check’ (WMC). I went for my WMC back in February; I was beaten in to it by my wife who was extracting revenge for me having pestered her in to having her cervical smear and bi-annual mammogram. As I noted the appointment in my diary, I can honestly say I had never felt healthier.
It was all very civil, we discussed such pithy items as the frequency of my night-time bathroom visits, weight, exercise regime, my low blood pressure and the childrens’ schools. A quick blood test and I was on my way or so I thought. A week later I got the call from the Practice Nurse (when do they become competent?) saying my cholesterol was high and that I had ‘glucose intolerance’. Another, fasting (ie. nil by mouth for 12 hours previous), blood test involving the drinking of a foul fizzy pop like substance, 2 hour wait and then another bruise in my arm from a further blood sample. Another week passed before a slightly garbled message on my cell phone saying that all was good and I had nothing to worry about…….but I wasn’t anyway.
Three months passed when out of the blue came an impersonal ‘billet doux’ in the post advising me that I was due my 3 monthly blood test. I queried this but wasn’t able to get a great deal of sense from anyone so went along for another fasting blood test complete with even bigger bruise on my arm. Another 10 days passed before a breathless message from one of the secretaries at the GPs Practice saying that it was still bad (I presumed they meant the cholesterol) and that if I was confident I had done all I could with my diet then I would have to go on a course of statins. Suspecting that ‘a hare was off and running’, I tried to call my GP; just like in any country this wasn’t possible for a whole host of reasons. I set about some research on the web; I spent a happy afternoon dredging in to the merits or otherwise of LVLs, HVLs, side effects etc etc. Meanwhile a prescription arrived and somewhat lemming like I trotted down to the Pharmacy and got my pills. Suspiciously there was no ‘patient info’ leaflet enclosed but I was assured by the Pharmacist that they were ‘just like vitamins’. Ho hum. Having failed to establish voice contact with my GP I fell back on that other naval stand-by, the letter.
Time passed. Mindful of the fate that befell a long-term friend (high LVL cholesterol test followed by major heart attack a short time later), I started the course of tablets. As I was now in possession of the actual brand name, I was able to download a patient info sheet form the company web site. The side effects made particularly frightening reading until you stop and consider they all do; after all I was now a walking cardiac time bomb wasn’t I?
Whilst being in good health, I do need optical assistance for many day-to-day tasks. In late July I went for a routine check up at the Opticians. All was well but like so many health care providers, they had a new toy: a visual field (VF) checker. I have never been subjected to one of these before but happily went along with the test. Apart from telling me that I was wearing my contact lens too much, thereby causing wear / deterioration of my cornea, I was asked to come back for a repeat VF test in a couple of weeks time as there were some anomalies. Later that afternoon, I received a call from the optometrist , whilst watching my daughter receive her dance medals, asking that I contact my GP for an urgent referral to an eye surgeon as there was a definite pattern to my failed VF tests that might indicate pressure on my optic nerves. Duly I rang the surgery and got an appointment for the end of the week and attended.
My GP discussed at length my letter of some 9 weeks previous and convinced me to keep taking the pills, have another blood test after finishing the initial 3 months supply and have a cardiac risk assessment with the Practice Nurse. This took place a couple of weeks later and revealed that on the strength of my ‘high cholesterol’ blood test my cardiac risk was a 6% chance of ‘a cardiac event’ in the next 5 years. This did not strike me as startling odds and certainly I shouldn’t be selling tickets for the impending event.
Then 3 things happened: firstly I finished the initial course of statins, had my blood test and rejoiced in the fact that my LVL was half the figure in July and my cardiac risk assessment was now a paltry 3%; better keep taking pills and forget about my cardiac event. Secondly I received an appointment to see the eye specialist who because it was so urgent was referring me to his locum. Thirdly I received an appointment from the hospital for an MRI scan of my brain and pituitary although who had actually ordered it was something of a mystery; the GP and eye surgeon all denied any knowledge.
It all went ‘pear shaped’ on Taranto Night (11 Nov) when an hour after retiring I was awoken by the most excruciating pains in all my joints. Now, like many of the male form, I am no hero when it comes to pain but this was awful. My medical professional wife announced that she was not going to do anything until morning and ordered that I make less noise or I might wake the children. When day finally broke I staggered in to the shower, made a half-hearted attempt at washing and then had to be assisted with dressing. Eventually made it downstairs to be greeted with two worried little faces and another edict from the medical profession that I could only have water in case the hospital wanted to do anything more with me.
We arrived at ED just before 09:00 to a deserted waiting room. I was whisked away shortly after the ‘warm’ welcome from the receptionist (do they do a course to be so rude and uninterested?) and after answering seemingly interminable questions, the young doctor announced that he was pretty sure it was an allergic reaction to the statins. A blood test followed (not much of a bruise this time) and, 2¾hours later after the lab processed it, he was back confirming that was the reason, oh and by the way Mr Sutton your liver function is a bit off. I was discharged with a wad of painkillers and told to make an appointment with my GP.
My GP had the sense to look concerned and after discussing my ceasing taking the statins any more (would you?) I was bundled next door for another blood test (biggest bruise of the lot) and then in to the Physiotherapy clinic which just happens to be collocated there – I was still having trouble getting my limbs to do every day tasks like pegging up the washing. Eventually, 4 days later, my GP phoned to say that my blood test was back and whilst my liver function was better, it still wasn’t where they would like it to be and would I like to have another in a weeks time? What the hell? My arm was shot now anyway so what’s one more bruise?
Meanwhile I saw the eye surgeon; delightful chap with an excellent ‘bedside manner’ and a thoroughly charming assistant (his wife). No he couldn’t see what all the fuss was about and whilst my VF wasn’t great it was OK. A few days later I had my MRI (it had been ordered by the Outpatients dept at the local hospital after a referral from my GP). My wife’s boss did it and pronounced it all perfectly normal indeed for someone my age (and who in younger years abused his body with alcohol at various mess dinners including Taranto nights) it was in remarkably good condition.
Another blood test before having a therapeutic shoulder massage at the local health spa and that afternoon a Practise Nurse called to say all was normal.
So now here I am $320 poorer and but feeling fine! In fact isn’t it time for your annual WMC dear?
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