Quack, Quack!

When you've seen as many doctors as I have over the last year, you get to the point where you can pretty much smell an incompetent doofus before he opens his mouth. Incidentally, have you noticed that commercials these days have replaced the word "doctor" with "health care professional"? As in "ask your health care professional if dipping your fingers in boiling wax is right for you". That's a private joke between Chayie and me; you can ask her about it. Hint: there was actually a time when she listened to me, and not the other way around. Also, when they advertise a drug on TV now, they are apparently required to list all the nasty side effects. As in "Toplipin can cause severe headaches, dizziness and armpit hair loss. Do not take Toplipin if you are nursing, pregnant, may become pregnant, may eat tangerines or may see 'Gone With The Wind' on a Tuesday night. Other side effects include drowsiness, upset stomach, painful spleen and death. Consult your health care professional before using Toplipin if you have a wart on your nose." By the time the commercial is over, there's no way in hell you're ever gonna use the stuff; you'd rather keep suffering from halitosis than risk losing your armpit hair, for crying out loud! Anyway, incompetent doctors are as common as banks on 13th Avenue. Indeed, there are a lot more of them than competent ones. They're all over the place, but their headquarters seems to be Beth Israel Hospital in Brooklyn. And I use the term "hospital" rather loosely. Anytime someone recommends a doctor affiliated with that hallowed institution, I tend to run the other way. And I can't run these days. I bring this up because for the past week or so I've had severe pain in my right shoulder. When I say severe, I mean the kind of pain you associate with a migraine or a toothache; the kind that makes it impossible to concentrate on anything else. The weird thing about it is that it comes and goes arbitrarily. I'll be sitting still and it won't hurt at all and then...boom! Back comes the pain with a vengeance. I called Dr. Katzenelenbogen's office and he told me to go to an orthopedist. Then he recommended two practices. I had already been to one and was unimpressed, so I was stuck with the other one. I should have known better; the office was next door to Beth Israel. Drs. Morgan, Soifer, Capulsky, Harding, Happy, Sleepy and Dopey or some such ridiculous number of physicians practice out of this office, and I do mean practice...they're gonna keep practicing until they get it right. Did you ever notice that there's a direct negative correlation between how much time you spend in the waiting room and how good the doctor is? I hardly wait at all when I go to Dr. DePalo, a world class pulmonologist. Dr. Woo is one of the best voice doctors in the world, possibly the best. The longest I've sat in his waiting room is maybe ten minutes. I waited for this Harding clown for two hours! I knew the moment he entered the room that this guy had graduated at the bottom of his class. He was disheveled, grumpy and lacked even the requisite white coat, which would at least have given him the appearance of professionalism. After feeling around for a while and glancing briefly at my x-ray, he pronounced his diagnosis: pinched nerve with a little bursitis thrown in for good measure. I'm convinced that orthopedists say you've got a pinched nerve when they have no idea what's wrong with you. He gave me a cortisone shot that hurt like hell, and three prescriptions: one for a painkiller, one for a muscle relaxant, and one for physical therapy. Then he sent me to the front desk so I could pay my copay and make another appointment. It's now a few hours later. My shoulder is killing me, but my wallet is a bit lighter. As much as I love Brooklyn, I'll give you some good advice, kiddies: if you want a good doctor, go to Manhattan!