Ask your doctor - essay

The Bush/Cheney/Rove Operation Smarmy is such a blatant and transparent PR attempt it is not worthy of comment.

Whatever happened to Patrick Fitzgerald? I like to think he is on to something so big it will bring down the Bush/Cheney Administration forthwith. But has the Bush mafia got to him? What?

For the moment I have other things on my mind:



I confess to being a tad bit hypochondriacal. Perhaps more than just a tad bit. Well, hypochondriacal enough to have stopped reading medical books and journals many years ago. You know the syndrome. You have the problem and then when you read about some disease or other you begin to suspect that you actually might have it. It’s a drag. It’s easy enough to give up reading medical books but now, it appears, I will have to give up television as well.
Some time ago (maybe a year or two), for some reason, the Pharmaceutical Industry apparently decided the obscene profits they have been making for so many years were just not enough. They began a campaign to suggest to innocent consumers they might need other drugs they (and even their doctors) might not have heard of as yet. They began an advertising campaign to insure that no drug would go unnoticed (and hopefully, unprescribed).
Given my abnormal condition I was, of course, ripe for this campaign. I remember the first time I saw a commercial for Lunesta, a sleep aid. While in my Doctor’s office I casually asked, “Doc, do you think Lunesta is right for me?”
“Why,” he queried, “are you having trouble sleeping?”
“Well, not really,” I replied. “Except that the other night I actually woke up in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. Maybe that’s a sign that I might be going to have a problem.”
“I don’t think so,” he said, dismissively.
It wasn’t long , however, before I was convinced I needed Nexium. “Doc,’ I said, do you think Nexium is right for me?”
“Why,” he asked. “Do you have heartburn?”
“Well, I did the other day after I ate some hot sausage.”
“That’s the only time?” he asked.
“Yeah, but don’t you think that could be a sign that I may be going to have a problem with it?”
“I don’t think so,” he said, looking at me with what I perceived to be a rather disgusted look.
Vesicare was next. “Doc,” I said, “do you think Vesicare is right for me?”
“Why?” he asked. “Are you having trouble going to the bathroom?”
“The other night I woke up and had to go. I don’t usually do that. Do you think that might be a precursor to a problem?”
He could barely conceal his disdain. “No, I don’t think you need Vesicare. In fact I think your health is fine. Why do you keep asking me about drugs you obviously don’t need?”
“Well, doc, I just keep seeing these ads on television suggesting that I should ask you about these things.”
“Do you believe everything you see on TV?” he demanded.
“Well, gee, no. But this is stuff that might be important, don’t you think?”
“No,’ he replied.
As I was beginning to get the impression that he was not really concerned about my health (certainly not as much as I was), I decided to refrain from further inquiries for the time being. I deliberately did not ask him about Toprol xl, Mylanta, Vytoran, Copacol, Nasonex, Plavix, Vesicare, Fosamex Plus D, Zetia, Coricidan, or Avordart. And I certainly didn’t ask him about any of the tumescence enhancers. Being a long term hypochrondriac I know when my doctor has been pushed to his limit.
I can’t bring myself to believe that these drug companies are doing this merely for profit. I’m sure they must be really, truly concerned about my health. I know their advertising campaigns are probably doubling or tripling the cost of drugs but, hey, doesn’t it make you feel good to know they are so concerned about your health?
I’m still waiting for that one commercial that comes on and says, “Worried about your health? Confused about commercials for drugs? Disappointed by your doctor? Ask him if psychiatric care is right for you.