The Nurse Practitioner in charge of my case
at the VA called me yesterday. It’s that time
for my yearly visit, she stated. May I come
over at 9 or 10 tomorrow to examine you,
she asked?
No, I replied, tomorrow won’t work for me.
Can’t we just do the assessment over the
phone or make it for next week sometime?
She came back with an alternative. We could
do this electronically using Zoom. Do you have
a computer? Yes, I told her, but the camera is
not working. And I really have a difficult time
having people over.
Nothing personal against you, but it takes me
at least two hours to get ready, and then I’m
in great pain and shot for the rest of the day.
I really need to see you face-to-face. It’s a
mandatory practice at the VA. You can be in
your pajamas, she went on. I didn’t tell her
that I don’t wear P. J.s and that I sleep in my
underwear. I figured that was not a key concern.
I just don’t like to have people over to my place.
I haven’t been out of my apartment for over a
year now, and only let had my son and daughter
in every other week or so. Really, I just want to
be left alone.
Besides, even if you did find something seriously
wrong with me physically, I wouldn’t have anything
done about it anyway. No need for a face-to-face,
I reiterated emphatically.
I look pretty much the same as I did last year, I added.
Except going on seventy-four and having fallen way
behind on my beauty sleep, I look a hell of a lot older.
As I see it, short of a miracle on God’s Green Earth,
there’s really nothing you and the medical profession
at the VA can do about that.
-30-
Chris Hanch 10-6-2020
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