(I’m the troublemaker in this story. I’m seeing my foot and ankle specialist. I’m a diabetic with an advanced form of neuropathy known as Charcot Foot. This doctor has already rebuilt my left foot twice, so I’m visiting him to discuss what we’re going to do with the right foot.)

Me: *as he walks in* “Howdy, [Doctor’s abbreviated first name]!”

Doctor: *offering his hand* “Sir! How are you?”

Me: “We got trouble, my friend… right here in River City.”

Doctor: “Does it start with a capital T, that rhymes with P, that stands for ‘pool’?”

Me: “As a matter of fact, my problems start with S.”

Doctor: “S?”

Me: “Yeah. I got spurs, and they don’t jingle-jangle-jingle.”

Doctor: *glancing at my new x-rays, specifically the talus* “Yeah, I see them… and I doubt they let you ride merrily along.”

My partner was applying for a new job which required a drug test. He didn’t have a regular doctor as we had recently moved, so he chose the closest to our house. On entering the doctor’s office the doctor simply asked him, “Do you drink?” and, “Do you use drugs?”. My partner replied, “No,” and was sent home with the doctor’s report.

Needless to say, the workplace required a more comprehensive drug test to be carried out — one with at least a urine sample.

(I’ve recently had to change my health insurance, and I’m still getting used to its quirks. I realize that one of my medications can’t be refilled on this insurance without a Prior Authorization — “PA.” Basically, the insurance wants my doctor to formally request that I be allowed to take it, because it’s a name brand that’s relatively expensive. My doctor sends the PA request in a few days before I have an appointment with him, and I don’t hear much else about it until I go into the office, where my doctor seems irritated.)

Doctor: “So, I wrote a letter to your insurance company for the PA. Actually, I wrote them two letters. They won’t fill your prescription.”

Me: “What? I thought the point of the PA was so they’d fill ones they normally wouldn’t?”

Doctor: “Generally, but sometimes they deny the requests because they want you to try a generic first. When I sent the first letter, they replied with a denial and said that you were required to at least try [Generic #1] or [Generic #2]. The problem is, they contain [certain progestin], which interacts with testosterone.”

Me: “Which is what I’m taking [Medication] for in the first place?”

Doctor: “Yes! So, in my second letter, I told them that if they couldn’t approve [Medication], I needed anything from a long list I gave them, but specifically any variation that did not include [certain progestin]. And they absolutely will not budge. They sent me a list of more options, and every single one of them contains it.”

Me: “Um. Okay. What does that mean?”

Doctor: *looking like he wants to kill someone* “It means your insurance company won’t let you take any medication except for the kind that will only make your problems worse.”

(I am still a teenager when this happens. I’ve had several bladder infections, which took a while to diagnose because I am a man, “and men never get urine infections.” Luckily my GP and parents take me seriously after the final diagnosis, so if I feel it coming, I pee in a pot, take it to the GP, and he does the test and gives me the antibiotics. A cause has yet to be found. One day I wake up in immense pain. I suspect bladder infection, but I can hardly squeeze anything out. The result also looks different, and I immediately go to the GP with my parents and my little jar. I don’t have to wait for long, and when the GP sees the little jar, he gets ready for the normal tests. Then… he suddenly turns back and takes the jar.)

GP: “Wait… I officially have to test this, but please go to the hospital right away.”

Father: “What is wrong?”

GP: “It’s a bladder infection, I’m positive but…” *he shows the jar, which holds three separate layers of fluids* “This is blood, this is proteins, and this is urine. It’s not supposed to separate… at all. Please leave right away, while I test this.”

(When I reached the hospital, results were in, a bed was made ready, and I spent a week at the hospital with a very severe bladder infection. I still often feel bladder infections coming, but it turns out my body responds really well to cranberry juice, so I haven’t had any need for antibiotics ever since!)

(This takes place shortly after my 19th birthday. I want to get a tattoo, much to my parents’ dislike, but since I am an adult now, they relent and my father goes with me as I get it done. I get a Gallifreyan circle — from Doctor Who — on my left forearm. It comes out really nice and I love it. However, a few months later, when it is fully healed, I develop some little red bumps over the tattoo and the skin is very itchy. I think it’s a rash, but it doesn’t look serious. I go to my family doctor to check it out, since I rarely get rashes at all. For context, my doctor is originally from Germany, and she has a thick accent. She also doesn’t have any sense of humor and is really blunt, which makes it hard to talk to her sometimes. I go in for my appointment and show her my arm.)

Me: “I think I have a rash on my arm, but I don’t know how I got it. I don’t have allergies to anything, so I’m not sure what triggered it.”

Doctor: “When did you get the tattoo?”

Me: “In May, a few months ago.”

(It’s August now.)

Doctor: *cutting me off* “You’re allergic to tattoo ink. No more tattoos.”

Me: *thinking* “If I’m allergic to the ink, wouldn’t I have had a reaction immediately?” *out loud* “Are you sure? It’s been a good amount of time since I got it, and I didn’t have a reaction when it was healing.”

Doctor: “You’re allergic to tattoo ink. You can’t get any more tattoos. You’re lucky you came in now; it could have developed into something worse. “

Me: “If I got this rash right after getting the tattoo, I would agree with you. But it’s been about three months, and it’s fully healed. Is there any possibility it could be something else?”

Doctor: “You’re not listening to me. You. Are. Allergic. To. The. Ink. Do not get any more tattoos. And don’t get any more piercings, either.”

(I only have my ears and nose pierced, but I don’t know why that mattered since they also healed fine. I was skeptical, but didn’t push it further. She prescribed a rash cream and said to use it until it clears up, or come back to see her if it doesn’t. I decided to call the tattoo shop I went to to ask them about it, which I now know I should have done in the first place! They told me not to worry, since it was fully healed, and it wasn’t a typical allergic reaction, especially months later. I used the cream and the rash was completely gone about a week later. I now have four tattoos, and have never developed another rash. Allergic, indeed!)