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I Feel the Earth Move

I spy the envelope in my mailbox. It’s from the medical office where I see my primary care physician. I can’t believe it. Another bill? How can I have another bill from them? I thought I was all paid up.

When I see that it’s not a bill, I have a brief moment of relief. Then I realize it’s worse than a bill. It’s a notice that my doctor is leaving the practice.

As I stand in my kitchen, letter in hand, I think back to when I started seeing my doctor. It was a lifetime ago. Or at least it seems that way. In the years since my first visit, a lot has changed. I’ve changed, of course, and so has healthcare. Dealing with the healthcare system these days is like prepping for an impending natural disaster. I mobilize for a yearly physical like I’m getting ready for a hurricane. I make the appointment and watch its impending approach on the calendar long in advance. Then, I get my supplies ready. It’s water, canned food, and batteries for a hurricane; blood work, list of questions, and co-payment for the physical. Then, I hunker down and hope for the best.

I remember when physicals were considered to be preventative, thus fully covered by insurance. Ah, the Good Old Days. Now, long after the appointment occurs, I get buried in an avalanche of uncovered charges. It’s like finding storm damage months after a tornado passes through.

If I’m suddenly very ill and call the medical practice office, chances are I can’t see anyone on the same day. Instead, I am required to lay low and ride out the storm until there’s an opening. Later in the month, the bill comes at me like a lightning strike. Sometimes, I see it coming; sometimes, I don’t. Either way, it hurts.

I will say that even though healthcare itself is different and bills have ballooned, my doctor has always been consistent. He could be trusted. I felt like he actually delivered care.

Now what? I’m not getting younger. I’m not old yet and I’m healthy, but my health future is probably not going to get easier. As I get older, will I be trying to outrun illness like people try to outrun a tsunami?

For many friends of mine, it’s a lot worse. In comparison, their own illnesses and the illnesses of their loved ones make my losing my long-time doc seem like no big deal. And maybe it’s not the biggest disaster ever. I’ll figure out what to do. However, when I read the news, it’s a bit like having the Earth move under my feet.

Two weeks later, the Earth actually does move under my feet.

Sitting at my desk and on my second cup of coffee, I’m still wondering what I’m going to do about finding a new doctor. Then everything starts to shake. And I mean everything. The entire office building, made of stone and capable of toughing out a tornado, is moving. Actually moving! Everyone is alarmed. We don’t know it’s an earthquake yet. That should seem obvious, but it’s not. There had been a gas leak earlier in the week, so we wonder, was there another leak? Did something explode?

We go outside in case the shaking does have something to do with a gas leak. We soon learn that it was a quake. Well, at least the building didn’t blow up. Best to look on the bright side. Even though the building remains intact, my focus does not. It’s like I’m standing beside myself, watching as I work. Doing what I need to do but not mentally engaged.

I go home and see that infamous letter still hanging out on my table. They say change is good, but I’m not so sure. The tectonic plates of my years-long healthcare routine are shifting. I need to plant both feet on semi-solid ground and figure out what to do about my doctor situation. Maybe I can find out where he goes next. One can hope.

The Earth shrugs its shoulders, shaking up the East Coast. We all need to brace ourselves. As I write this, the moon is passing over the sun.

Juliana Gribbins is a writer who believes that absurdity is the spice of life. Her book Date Expectations is winner of the 2017 Independent Press Awards, Humor Category, and winner of the 2016 IPPY silver medal for humor. Write to her at jeepgribbs@hotmail.com. Read more of her columns at www.zip06.com/shorelineliving.