Karen Young17 Asks:
I suppose I don't see why I should ever have to resort to prayer just to get someone to explain exactly what I came here for.
Because that’s just what decent people do. I mean, it's not like you showed up to a local farmers market specifically to buy lettuce, only to have a bunch of little gremlins jumping around you trying to hawk their products; even if you did go there for groceries, I guess having a bit of basic politeness wouldn't actually hurt anyone.
Karen Young17 said:Why on earth would I need to pray to anyone just to get an explanation for the very reason I showed up?
Take the other day, for instance... I went in for an abdominal ultrasound, and honestly, the entire experience consisted of nothing more than being told to "take a breath," "hold it," and "just breathe"—followed by the standard, "wait over by the window for your results." Then, I finally get the report in my hands and it says:
Cholecystolithiasis—or what most people just call gallstones—is one of those medical terms that sounds much more intimidating than the actual reality of dealing with it. Essentially, you’re looking at solid deposits forming in your gallbladder, which can turn a routine Tuesday into a complete nightmare if they decide to migrate. It’s a bit like having a handful of gravel stuck in a delicate piece of plumbing; everything functions fine until a stone decides to wedge itself right in the narrowest part of the pipe. Once that happens, the discomfort isn't just a nuisance—it's a full-blown crisis.
Splenomegaly—essentially an enlarged spleen—is one of those medical terms that sounds much more intimidating than the actual sensation might suggest, though the underlying causes can certainly be serious. It isn’t a disease in itself, but rather a clinical sign that something else is going on within the body's internal ecosystem. Think of the spleen as a sort of high-tech filtration plant for your blood. When that plant starts swelling, it’s usually because it's being overworked—perhaps by fighting off a persistent infection, or due to issues with how blood cells are being produced or recycled. It could be anything from a relatively minor viral bout to more complex hematological concerns that require a specialist's touch. If you’re feeling that specific fullness or discomfort in the upper left side of your abdomen, it’s worth getting it checked out by a professional. It’s better to have a doctor run some standard tests—maybe some blood work or an ultrasound—to figure out if your "filtration plant" is just dealing with a temporary clog or if there's a deeper systemic issue at play. Always listen to those subtle cues your body sends; they're rarely wrong.
I did some Googling of these Latin terms and discovered that I have an enlarged spleen and gallstones... Should I be praying over this information, or was my doctor—the one who performed the exam—supposed to tell me directly?
Nicholas Chavez70 Asks:
It shouldn't be particularly difficult to distinguish between those who dress themselves up and those who just smoke like a chimney. When you look at the data—blood alcohol levels, the specific patterns of damage to the liver, brain, stomach, and kidneys—it becomes quite obvious how chronic drinkers differ from everyone else. It’s the same story with cigarettes; you have layers of tar and nicotine building up in the lungs year after year. Personally, I’m all for a dedicated surcharge on alcohol and tobacco to help fund Medicare, but that isn't true prevention. If you actually want to prevent health issues, the most effective method is prevention via the wallet—making the cost high enough that people think twice before they indulge.
So, get this—about nine months ago, I was recovering from surgery. While I was in the ICU, the doctor on duty was listening to my lungs when she suddenly shakes her head and starts muttering under her breath, something like, "Ugh, you smoke..." I could have sworn right then and there that I’ve never even touched a cigarette in my entire life. It’s honestly such a repulsive assumption to make. But here I am—the lucky one who basically grew up in a cloud of smoke, having spent twenty-three years breathing in secondhand smoke.
And how exactly would you go about proving that?
My grandfather used to say back in the day—and he was one of those old-school types who didn't waste words—that things were built differently then. It wasn't just about the quality of the tools or the materials, though that was part of it; it was more about a certain mindset, a way of approaching life that seems to have slipped through our fingers lately. He had this quiet, steady way of looking at the world—not rushing to judgment, just observing—and he believed that if you took care of the small details, the big picture would eventually take care of itself. It’s a perspective that feels increasingly rare in such a loud, fast-paced era. Twelve varieties. It’s always the same cycle—you take a pill, then go in for a follow-up only to have the doctor tell you your stomach is acting up because of the medication, so they just hand you another prescription to fix the side effects of the first one. It's a bit of a loop, isn't it? 🙄
I honestly get a little anxious watching my doctor click through the exact same menu a million times—just pounding away at the keyboard with two fingers like she’s using an old typewriter.
If she realized that software isn't static—that you don't just use the same program every single day and constantly have to type things out—maybe she wouldn't be so perpetually lost in space and time... by the way, I've been seeing this woman for 40 years now.
Well, exactly. That medical report is intended specifically for your physician, which is why it’s written in a technical language and filled with terminology that seems completely foreign to most of the general public. I guess you should just ask whoever ordered the test what they actually found. After all, that report is only one small piece of the puzzle—it's just a fragment of the full picture. Only a doctor can see the whole thing, since they are the only ones with the actual expertise required to interpret those images correctly.
Karen Young17 said:Why on earth would I need to pray to anyone just to get an explanation for the very reason I showed up?
Take the other day, for instance... I went in for an abdominal ultrasound, and honestly, the entire experience consisted of nothing more than being told to "take a breath," "hold it," and "just breathe"—followed by the standard, "wait over by the window for your results." Then, I finally get the report in my hands and it says:
Cholecystolithiasis—or what most people just call gallstones—is one of those medical terms that sounds much more intimidating than the actual reality of dealing with it. Essentially, you’re looking at solid deposits forming in your gallbladder, which can turn a routine Tuesday into a complete nightmare if they decide to migrate. It’s a bit like having a handful of gravel stuck in a delicate piece of plumbing; everything functions fine until a stone decides to wedge itself right in the narrowest part of the pipe. Once that happens, the discomfort isn't just a nuisance—it's a full-blown crisis.
Splenomegaly—essentially an enlarged spleen—is one of those medical terms that sounds much more intimidating than the actual sensation might suggest, though the underlying causes can certainly be serious. It isn’t a disease in itself, but rather a clinical sign that something else is going on within the body's internal ecosystem. Think of the spleen as a sort of high-tech filtration plant for your blood. When that plant starts swelling, it’s usually because it's being overworked—perhaps by fighting off a persistent infection, or due to issues with how blood cells are being produced or recycled. It could be anything from a relatively minor viral bout to more complex hematological concerns that require a specialist's touch. If you’re feeling that specific fullness or discomfort in the upper left side of your abdomen, it’s worth getting it checked out by a professional. It’s better to have a doctor run some standard tests—maybe some blood work or an ultrasound—to figure out if your "filtration plant" is just dealing with a temporary clog or if there's a deeper systemic issue at play. Always listen to those subtle cues your body sends; they're rarely wrong.
I did some Googling of these Latin terms and discovered that I have an enlarged spleen and gallstones... Should I be praying over this information, or was my doctor—the one who performed the exam—supposed to tell me directly?
Nicholas Chavez70 Asks:
It shouldn't be particularly difficult to distinguish between those who dress themselves up and those who just smoke like a chimney. When you look at the data—blood alcohol levels, the specific patterns of damage to the liver, brain, stomach, and kidneys—it becomes quite obvious how chronic drinkers differ from everyone else. It’s the same story with cigarettes; you have layers of tar and nicotine building up in the lungs year after year. Personally, I’m all for a dedicated surcharge on alcohol and tobacco to help fund Medicare, but that isn't true prevention. If you actually want to prevent health issues, the most effective method is prevention via the wallet—making the cost high enough that people think twice before they indulge.
So, get this—about nine months ago, I was recovering from surgery. While I was in the ICU, the doctor on duty was listening to my lungs when she suddenly shakes her head and starts muttering under her breath, something like, "Ugh, you smoke..." I could have sworn right then and there that I’ve never even touched a cigarette in my entire life. It’s honestly such a repulsive assumption to make. But here I am—the lucky one who basically grew up in a cloud of smoke, having spent twenty-three years breathing in secondhand smoke.
And how exactly would you go about proving that?
My grandfather used to say back in the day—and he was one of those old-school types who didn't waste words—that things were built differently then. It wasn't just about the quality of the tools or the materials, though that was part of it; it was more about a certain mindset, a way of approaching life that seems to have slipped through our fingers lately. He had this quiet, steady way of looking at the world—not rushing to judgment, just observing—and he believed that if you took care of the small details, the big picture would eventually take care of itself. It’s a perspective that feels increasingly rare in such a loud, fast-paced era. Twelve varieties. It’s always the same cycle—you take a pill, then go in for a follow-up only to have the doctor tell you your stomach is acting up because of the medication, so they just hand you another prescription to fix the side effects of the first one. It's a bit of a loop, isn't it? 🙄
I honestly get a little anxious watching my doctor click through the exact same menu a million times—just pounding away at the keyboard with two fingers like she’s using an old typewriter.
If she realized that software isn't static—that you don't just use the same program every single day and constantly have to type things out—maybe she wouldn't be so perpetually lost in space and time... by the way, I've been seeing this woman for 40 years now.
It feels a bit harsh to make assumptions like that, but I suppose the doctor is actually quite skilled. Maybe you’re just feeling frustrated because of your smoking environment; those surroundings probably aren't doing you any favors, I guess.
Karen Young17 said:Why on earth would I need to pray to anyone just to get an explanation for the very reason I showed up?
Take the other day, for instance... I went in for an abdominal ultrasound, and honestly, the entire experience consisted of nothing more than being told to "take a breath," "hold it," and "just breathe"—followed by the standard, "wait over by the window for your results." Then, I finally get the report in my hands and it says:
Cholecystolithiasis—or what most people just call gallstones—is one of those medical terms that sounds much more intimidating than the actual reality of dealing with it. Essentially, you’re looking at solid deposits forming in your gallbladder, which can turn a routine Tuesday into a complete nightmare if they decide to migrate. It’s a bit like having a handful of gravel stuck in a delicate piece of plumbing; everything functions fine until a stone decides to wedge itself right in the narrowest part of the pipe. Once that happens, the discomfort isn't just a nuisance—it's a full-blown crisis.
Splenomegaly—essentially an enlarged spleen—is one of those medical terms that sounds much more intimidating than the actual sensation might suggest, though the underlying causes can certainly be serious. It isn’t a disease in itself, but rather a clinical sign that something else is going on within the body's internal ecosystem. Think of the spleen as a sort of high-tech filtration plant for your blood. When that plant starts swelling, it’s usually because it's being overworked—perhaps by fighting off a persistent infection, or due to issues with how blood cells are being produced or recycled. It could be anything from a relatively minor viral bout to more complex hematological concerns that require a specialist's touch. If you’re feeling that specific fullness or discomfort in the upper left side of your abdomen, it’s worth getting it checked out by a professional. It’s better to have a doctor run some standard tests—maybe some blood work or an ultrasound—to figure out if your "filtration plant" is just dealing with a temporary clog or if there's a deeper systemic issue at play. Always listen to those subtle cues your body sends; they're rarely wrong.
I did some Googling of these Latin terms and discovered that I have an enlarged spleen and gallstones... Should I be praying over this information, or was my doctor—the one who performed the exam—supposed to tell me directly?
Nicholas Chavez70 Asks:
It shouldn't be particularly difficult to distinguish between those who dress themselves up and those who just smoke like a chimney. When you look at the data—blood alcohol levels, the specific patterns of damage to the liver, brain, stomach, and kidneys—it becomes quite obvious how chronic drinkers differ from everyone else. It’s the same story with cigarettes; you have layers of tar and nicotine building up in the lungs year after year. Personally, I’m all for a dedicated surcharge on alcohol and tobacco to help fund Medicare, but that isn't true prevention. If you actually want to prevent health issues, the most effective method is prevention via the wallet—making the cost high enough that people think twice before they indulge.
So, get this—about nine months ago, I was recovering from surgery. While I was in the ICU, the doctor on duty was listening to my lungs when she suddenly shakes her head and starts muttering under her breath, something like, "Ugh, you smoke..." I could have sworn right then and there that I’ve never even touched a cigarette in my entire life. It’s honestly such a repulsive assumption to make. But here I am—the lucky one who basically grew up in a cloud of smoke, having spent twenty-three years breathing in secondhand smoke.
And how exactly would you go about proving that?
My grandfather used to say back in the day—and he was one of those old-school types who didn't waste words—that things were built differently then. It wasn't just about the quality of the tools or the materials, though that was part of it; it was more about a certain mindset, a way of approaching life that seems to have slipped through our fingers lately. He had this quiet, steady way of looking at the world—not rushing to judgment, just observing—and he believed that if you took care of the small details, the big picture would eventually take care of itself. It’s a perspective that feels increasingly rare in such a loud, fast-paced era. Twelve varieties. It’s always the same cycle—you take a pill, then go in for a follow-up only to have the doctor tell you your stomach is acting up because of the medication, so they just hand you another prescription to fix the side effects of the first one. It's a bit of a loop, isn't it? 🙄
I honestly get a little anxious watching my doctor click through the exact same menu a million times—just pounding away at the keyboard with two fingers like she’s using an old typewriter.
If she realized that software isn't static—that you don't just use the same program every single day and constantly have to type things out—maybe she wouldn't be so perpetually lost in space and time... by the way, I've been seeing this woman for 40 years now.
It’s probably for the best that his grandmother is the one canceling the appointment, though I suppose I should hope she's actually a physician. But then again, as strange as it might sound, I guess the stomach lining really does need protection if the treatment ends up being overly aggressive.
Look at it this way—if you go by the data available online, like from UC Berkeley, the average life expectancy for an American man following something like World War I was only about 53 years. So, I guess, without those pills—even considering they might be eroding his stomach lining—he’d most likely be six feet under right now, resting under a marble slab and serving as nothing more than a feast for the worms.
I guess I start getting a little worked up whenever I watch my doctor click through the exact same thing for the millionth time, just pounding away at the keyboard with her fingertips like she’s operating some old-fashioned typewriter.
Karen Young17 said:Why on earth would I need to pray to anyone just to get an explanation for the very reason I showed up?
Take the other day, for instance... I went in for an abdominal ultrasound, and honestly, the entire experience consisted of nothing more than being told to "take a breath," "hold it," and "just breathe"—followed by the standard, "wait over by the window for your results." Then, I finally get the report in my hands and it says:
Cholecystolithiasis—or what most people just call gallstones—is one of those medical terms that sounds much more intimidating than the actual reality of dealing with it. Essentially, you’re looking at solid deposits forming in your gallbladder, which can turn a routine Tuesday into a complete nightmare if they decide to migrate. It’s a bit like having a handful of gravel stuck in a delicate piece of plumbing; everything functions fine until a stone decides to wedge itself right in the narrowest part of the pipe. Once that happens, the discomfort isn't just a nuisance—it's a full-blown crisis.
Splenomegaly—essentially an enlarged spleen—is one of those medical terms that sounds much more intimidating than the actual sensation might suggest, though the underlying causes can certainly be serious. It isn’t a disease in itself, but rather a clinical sign that something else is going on within the body's internal ecosystem. Think of the spleen as a sort of high-tech filtration plant for your blood. When that plant starts swelling, it’s usually because it's being overworked—perhaps by fighting off a persistent infection, or due to issues with how blood cells are being produced or recycled. It could be anything from a relatively minor viral bout to more complex hematological concerns that require a specialist's touch. If you’re feeling that specific fullness or discomfort in the upper left side of your abdomen, it’s worth getting it checked out by a professional. It’s better to have a doctor run some standard tests—maybe some blood work or an ultrasound—to figure out if your "filtration plant" is just dealing with a temporary clog or if there's a deeper systemic issue at play. Always listen to those subtle cues your body sends; they're rarely wrong.
I did some Googling of these Latin terms and discovered that I have an enlarged spleen and gallstones... Should I be praying over this information, or was my doctor—the one who performed the exam—supposed to tell me directly?
Nicholas Chavez70 Asks:
It shouldn't be particularly difficult to distinguish between those who dress themselves up and those who just smoke like a chimney. When you look at the data—blood alcohol levels, the specific patterns of damage to the liver, brain, stomach, and kidneys—it becomes quite obvious how chronic drinkers differ from everyone else. It’s the same story with cigarettes; you have layers of tar and nicotine building up in the lungs year after year. Personally, I’m all for a dedicated surcharge on alcohol and tobacco to help fund Medicare, but that isn't true prevention. If you actually want to prevent health issues, the most effective method is prevention via the wallet—making the cost high enough that people think twice before they indulge.
So, get this—about nine months ago, I was recovering from surgery. While I was in the ICU, the doctor on duty was listening to my lungs when she suddenly shakes her head and starts muttering under her breath, something like, "Ugh, you smoke..." I could have sworn right then and there that I’ve never even touched a cigarette in my entire life. It’s honestly such a repulsive assumption to make. But here I am—the lucky one who basically grew up in a cloud of smoke, having spent twenty-three years breathing in secondhand smoke.
And how exactly would you go about proving that?
My grandfather used to say back in the day—and he was one of those old-school types who didn't waste words—that things were built differently then. It wasn't just about the quality of the tools or the materials, though that was part of it; it was more about a certain mindset, a way of approaching life that seems to have slipped through our fingers lately. He had this quiet, steady way of looking at the world—not rushing to judgment, just observing—and he believed that if you took care of the small details, the big picture would eventually take care of itself. It’s a perspective that feels increasingly rare in such a loud, fast-paced era. Twelve varieties. It’s always the same cycle—you take a pill, then go in for a follow-up only to have the doctor tell you your stomach is acting up because of the medication, so they just hand you another prescription to fix the side effects of the first one. It's a bit of a loop, isn't it? 🙄
I honestly get a little anxious watching my doctor click through the exact same menu a million times—just pounding away at the keyboard with two fingers like she’s using an old typewriter.
If she realized that software isn't static—that you don't just use the same program every single day and constantly have to type things out—maybe she wouldn't be so perpetually lost in space and time... by the way, I've been seeing this woman for 40 years now.
It's probably because that entire generation grew up learning how to use typewriters, so they might actually be better at it than you or me! (And you know, you only use one finger on those old machines anyway).
But look, she isn't clicking and typing like that because she enjoys it, nor is she being paid based on her click count... she's doing it because you approached her for help, so maybe try showing a little respect!