Tag: Health

Posted on

How Often Do You Shower?

I know that some people shower a lot, but was surprised by the results of this poll showing that 23% of people shower more than once a day, and that an additional 55% shower every day or almost every day. Several people in the comments on that page also mentioned wanting a clean towel for each shower! Even though I bike daily and hike on the weekends, and Amy works in the garden almost every day, we’re both light showerers – we average 2-3 showers/week each, and neither of us take showers lasting more than 10-15 minutes (how long does it take to lather up, shampoo, and shave anyway?) Miles gets one or two baths per week, depending on what he’s been up to. Neither of us have ever been accused of stinking, nor do we feel dirty. I can’t help but think that personal perceptions of cleanliness don’t correspond neatly to cultural standards of cleanliness (in other words, people don’t consider us “dirty” based on our appearance or smell, even if they think daily showering is necessary for cleanliness).

According to one person’s calculations, the average 10-minute shower costs $1.12 and uses 26 gallons of water – they don’t come free! If you’re using low-flow toilets, reducing your lawn watering, or taking other water-saving measures for environmental reasons, you could cancel out your efforts pretty quickly by taking long or frequent showers. YMMV.

Curious whether Birdhouse readers have similar showering habits to the population at large, so I’m reproducing the poll here. Votes are 100% anonymous.

How often do you shower?

View Results

Posted on

One Ear Warm, One Ear Cold

Does it mean anything if one of your ears is warm while the other is cold? Even if you’ve been inside for hours and haven’t been wearing a hat and can’t think of anything you might have done that could have caused such a thing? Does this mean I’m going to die? Or just that my left brain is running hot for some reason? Ah well – I’m going to die eventually anyway.

William Shatner – “You’re Going to Die”

Music: Electrelane :: This Deed
Posted on

Specialist Limbo

So I’ve been dealing with a persistent ear infection thing for the past 10 days. Started while I was sick, but has lasted long beyond the other symptoms, which have passed. Scarily, it has survived a round of antibiotics without diminishing. Feels like a knot of something behind the inner ear – either a vacuum or a clod somewhere in there, leaning against the cochlea maybe. My hearing in the left ear is diminished by about 50%, and there’s a persistent ringing. My voice reverberates in my head, as does my every footstep. It’s uncomfortable and scary and leads to hypochrondriacal thoughts about tumors and other dangerous nasties – not typical thoughts at all for me, but its resistance to medication and unrelenting nagging at my state of being is doing a number on me.

My M.D. has run out of theories and has referred me to an otolaryngologist. Here’s where my patience with the medical system runs into a brick wall. When you get referred to a specialist in this country, you go into this double limbo state. First, you’re given a list of doctors covered by your plan. In this case, I had 18 to choose from, with zero criteria to use in choosing one. Throw a dart at the wall and see where it lands. No Consumer Reports for medical specialists, no user rankings, no anecdotal assistance. Just pick someone at random to entrust with your most critical needs.

Fortunately, I did have one criteria: I needed to see someone yesterday or today, because I fly tomorrow to Austin for a week at SXSW/Interactive. That’s where you hit limbo state #2. Started calling names on the list, only to find that earliest appointments were three weeks out. If you need to see someone soon, you’re directed to the emergency room — where you end up not seeing a specialist, like your doctor ordered. These are your choices: wait weeks (while more damage is possibly caused, depending on the malady), or go to the E.R. where you’ll wait all day and see someone who doesn’t specialize in the problem (gee, isn’t that why my doctor sent me to a specialist to begin with?) If you’ve got something that needs rapid attention, you’re S.O.L. What really weirds me out is that when you try to talk about this paradox with nurses and receptionists, there’s zero sympathy. That’s just the way the system works, and my goodness, aren’t you a weird one for bringing attention to it?

Finally did find someone with an appointment for today (a cancellation), but it took hours out of my work day yesterday, wading through phone trees, waiting on hold, waiting for call-backs, having the same conversation over and over again…

Everything – everything – is wrong with this picture. The idea seems to be that medicine somehow stands apart from the free market. I would expect that there being more demand than supply would result in there being more practices. But it’s not even about that. A lot of the offices I spoke too said things like “We only see patients Tues and Thurs mornings.” Huhn??? If you’re setting appointments three weeks out, why don’t you work more hours?

Every time I’m forced to deal with Medicine in America I feel like I’m walking on a strange planet where the rules of reality are in permanent suspension. None of it makes any sense.

Continue reading “Specialist Limbo”

Posted on

Dr. Miles, At Your Service

Amy and Miles decided to play doctor. Amy describes the scene:

Miles set up a doctor’s office in his bedroom yesterday, and I got treated. I thought you might like to hear about his techniques.

The nice thing about this doctor’s office is that you get to sit upon two pillows, so it’s kind of like having a little throne. The doctor first ran a green crayon down my arm and then kind of pushed it in to draw some blood. I got a Barbie band aid for that. At this point, the brilliant doctor already knew what was wrong with me. A bone had broken somewhere in my body, and when it fell off, it made a hole in my heart. He crammed my left hand into a toilet paper tube and then inserted the whole hand into a little plastic oven (from his play dough toys). There was a whooshing sound as more air went into my body. Finally, a small, plastic red thing was kind of plunged in and out of my mouth a few times and I was ready to go.

On my second visit to the doctor, I was diagnosed as having a crammed tummy. This procedure is easy. You just take a magnolia seed pod and crunch it around in the patient’s belly button. This will uncram everything.

While we were playing, I asked Miles if he would like a doctor’s kit for Christmas and then immediately regretted it. What fun is a stethoscope when you can have your hand crammed into a toilet paper tube? Maybe he’ll forget that I brought that up.

Music: Herbie Hancock :: Succotash
Posted on

Root Canal

Rootcanal As the nitrous kicks in, I am floating sideways, seven feet underwater, thinking suddenly about SSL certificates and dolphins. What is this lame music, I wonder, remembering that the RIAA is suing dentists across the U.S. and Canada to get them to pay royalties for the privilege of subjecting patients to Kenny G. Isn’t that “Grazing in the Grass?” Yes, but neutered. Don’t they know people prefer to listen to Ornette Coleman on laughing gas? I try to flatten the fifth in my mind.

The antibiotics did such a marvelous job of relieving the pain over the past few days. I ask whether we can just call it a sinus infection and forget the root canal, call it a day. “Your mouth is a time bomb, Mr. Hacker,” the endodontist tells me in broken English. Not the first time I’ve heard that one. Bite plate goes in. Dental dam goes in. I am submerged, I am Dr. Yeh’s supplicant. Do with me as you will.

These are not your typical dentist’s drills. The bits are long and flexible, and turn slowly. No whining, more of a whirr. She applies them quickly, changes bits with lightning speed, examines each one carefully. How many bits do you need here? 20? I remember the line in the disclaimer I had to sign, about the prospect of a bit breaking off inside my jaw. Fumble for my phone, snap some self-portraits at arm’s length. Suddenly the good doctor pips in triumph, temporarily bringing me up from the depths. “You see? You see? Dead meat! Dead meat!” She is dangling a nerve from the tips of a small pair of pliers. The nerve is about the size of a few intertwined hairs, a tiny darkened bulb on one end, in the process of dying. It is the culprit, the source of the infection. I start laughing, can’t stop. Let me repeat the scene, so I never forget:

I am now gazing at a nerve extracted from my own body, pulled out of my head by a slowly rotating flexible bit, now dangling from a thin pairapliers. I have never seen my own nerves before, and I am laughing hysterically. Dead meat! Dead meat! I am happy.

They stop every so often to make images. New digital x-ray, no development required, images on an LCD on swivel mount in front of my face, instant vision. Dr. Yeh exclaims again. “Four roots, not three! Less than 5% of population have four roots! You are very special!” And the work continues. The fourth root goes very deep. They have to remove another filling to get it all. Three hours in the chair, total. I could do this all day. Suddenly they’re increasing the oxygen in my mixture, desaturating nitrous in my blood. I am above water. It all seemed so vivid while happening, now suddenly a barely accessible memory. Today will be a couch day.

Music: The Fall :: Last Orders
Posted on

Wisdom Teeth

Wisdom Teeth When the first dentist told me it was time to have my wisdom teeth erased at age 40, I ignored him. When the third one told me the same, decided it was now or never. Had heard horror stories of periodontists with their knee up on the patient’s chest, luxating (rocking the pliers forceps back and forth) madly. One friend told me they thought the dentist was going to break their jaw getting the beggars out. So when the perio told me we were going to do this without general anesthesia, I had palpitations. But the procedure went surprisingly smoothly — 5-10 minutes per tooth and they were delivered. Just as the luxation began the assistant walks in: “We have a call from Mr. Hacker’s wife — she’d like us to save the teeth.” I smiled through a mouthful of fingers and gear; that’s just so her (see next post). As the novocain wore off throughout yesterday, the aching began and my throat swelled up. Plenty of couch time, and liquid meals. Today faring better but still in pain. Could have been worse.

Music: The Eyes :: I’m Rowed Out
Posted on

Super Size Me

Another unanticipated consequence of living with Tivo: With an always-on list of good content, Amy and I had forgotten for the past few months that we actually like to watch movies as well. Rented Morgan Spurlock’s Super Size Me tonight and were awe-struck. Spurlock challenges himself to eat nothing but food from McDonald’s for an entire month, “three squares a day.” In that period, he gains 24.5 pounds, nearly destroys his liver, shocks his doctors, endures depression, mood swings, and generates 13 garbage bags full of packaging material. His vegan girlfriend even talks candidly about how his erections lose steam over the course of the month.

The film has a few sidebars on topics like the frightening state of modern school lunch programs and the power of the processed food industry’s lobbiests over government. Funny MOS interviews with people who have no idea what a calorie is. But it doesn’t touch the immense companion topic of factory farming, which seemed a bit strange. Focus here is really on personal health. Part of what makes the doc work is that there’s nothing pedantic about Spurlock – he’s a regular guy, unashamed to admit that McDonald’s food tastes great. He’s not preachy, just straight up and ready to turn himself into a guinea pig, even though it half kills him.

Music: Impossible Underpants :: Gordian Pie
Posted on

Sea Turtle

An interesting bit of cultural relativism: Met a woman who told us that when her baby had a runny nose (babies can’t blow their noses; it’s very hard to get their noses clean), she would put her mouth over his nose and suck out the snot, then spit it out. “It’s my baby and I love him. What is the harm?” Then she told us that when a breastfeeding friend had pain from engorgement, her husband sucked out the milk to relieve the pain. She was careful to emphasize that he spit it out. What interested me was that she saw both acts as being on the same grossness par. I’d expect it would be rare to find an American woman who would be willing to suck out her baby’s snot; but it’s probably not uncommon for men to sample their nursing wives’ breast milk.
Continue reading “Sea Turtle”

Posted on

Post Written While On Hold (I Hate Our Health Care System)

I need to see a dermatologist about a funny dot of skin under my eye. My doctor tries to expedite a referral. But I have to wait two weeks for it to arrive. The number on the sheet that arrives yields a busy signal every day for a week. I call back my primary and am told that my doctor isn’t authorized to make a referral to a dermatologist and I need to call my insurance and get temporarily assigned a new primary care physician in order to get a working referral. Call my insurance (wade through interminable voice-activated phone tree, which of course does not transmit any of the information I’ve entered over to the worker who ultimately responds), who has no idea what I’m talking about. I give them number of my doctor’s office, he puts me on hold, calls them, I wait on hold for 11th time today. He gets back to me, then says my doctor doesn’t exist. He names a doctor I had two years ago, not my current. Everyone totally confused. Finally it’s (presumably) straightened out. Now I just have to wait another week for a replacement referral sheet and then make the appointment.

Seems like this kind of stuff happens every time I need to do anything in our medical system beyond having my blood pressure taken. And yet people continually refer to our health care system as “the best in the world.” I don’t get it.

Music: Sunny Ade :: Ja Fun Mi
Posted on

Fluoride

Every now and then you hear some inkling that everything you thought you knew about fluoride in drinking water is wrong. And then some reassuring voice of authority reminds you of all of fluoride’s benefits. But I’m reading this account of how sample communities in rural China living with and without fluoride end up with differing IQ levels.

The study, published in the May 2003 journal Fluoride, found that as fluoride levels in drinking water increased, IQs fell and the incidence of mental retardation and borderline intelligence increased.

What’s more, according to the article, fluoride doesn’t even have the dental benefits it purports to have, especially not when ingested rather than applied topically to the teeth. In fact, it may have harmful non-dental, non-mental health effects as well.

So why is fluoride on track to be even more widely deployed in our water supplies over the next ten years? Conspiracy theorists, start your engines.

Aside: It occurs to me that writer Cory Doctorow and seminal punker Klaus Fluoride may have been separated at birth.

Thanks rinchen.

Update: Tons of great info at the Fluoride Action Network.

Music: Rufus Thomas :: I Think I Made A Boo Boo