05-07-2012, 12:07 AM
I get a call from a lady named Hong Jin, or at least that's what I think she says. She wants to drop by my house to run some medical procedures. I'm okay, by the way. This is some sort of deal that my mom's financial adviser is pushing through. In theory, it will help cover assisted living costs for her. But it is packaged as life insurance for us three surviving kids. (I hope this is all on the up-and-up.) One requirement is that each of us kids must undergo an in-home medical exam. Hong Jin and I schedule a time, and I'm about to hang up when she mentions that she will be bringing along a trainee. I say okay. I mean, what can I say?
So two ladies come knocking at my door, and I let them in. They are carrying some mighty big bags. Hong Jin introduces herself, then the trainee does as well, though I can't understand her. I'm going to call her In Ept. She has short-clipped hair and a round face, and she seems very very young. It soon becomes clear that Hong Jin is going to let In Ept do everything and merely observe.
There are a lot of questions, and In Ept has a lot of trouble reading them. I think it might have something to do with not knowing basic English. She just mumbles past the big words (and there are lots of them), or she just skips them entirely. I quietly read over her shoulder and answer after she finishes each question.
My yes's require an explanation, which In Ept has to write down. She's better at writing than reading, though big words like "ankle" totally throw her. I made notes beforehand, so I point out the words in my notes when she gets stuck. Needless to say, actinic keratosis gives her a time. She really doesn't seem to understand my answers, and Hong Jin has to repeat things to her and pin down wording. I watch as In Ept jots down one wrong word after another.
Then it's urine sample time. In Ept gives me a cup and two stoppered vials and a strip and just randomly says some stuff that doesn't make a lot of sense. I'm glad that Hong Jin finally steps in and explains what I need to do, because I would have done it all wrong. After that, In Ept has to take my blood pressure. She has to do it three times, as a requirement. Each time she tells me what it is, and I'm startled to hear it is 170 over 50 or something else outrageous. But when she writes it down, it's what I would expect it to be. Likewise, when she puts me on the scales, she looks at the readout and says, "180." I tell her no, it's like 159, maybe 160. She says, Oh, 150. (Or maybe she sticks to 180; I'm not certain what she's saying anymore). Hong Jin finally takes a look. "160!" she scolds In Ept. "It's 160." Likewise there's a struggle when In Ept measures my height. She's using a spring-loaded tape measure that keeps spoinging closed. She comes fairly close on that. Then there's my pulse, and I really doubt she got that right.
In Ept then prepares to draw my blood. She's got two test tubes to fill. Needless to say, I'm wondering how this will go down. She works incredibly fast, wiping my elbow area with an antiseptic, telling me to clench my fist, then she grabs up the needle and plunges it in. To my surprise she seems to nail it. Without taping the needle or anything, she just holds it and somehow manages to fill up both test tubes. She then jerks out the needle and tells me to press on the cotton swab. I do so. All seems well.
The EKG is interesting. I've never had an EKG. In Ept has me lie down on the opium couch. No sooner am I lying down than she starts tearing off my shirt. Then comes all the wires and the tape. I can't see what the hell she's doing exactly, but she's attaching them to both sides of my chest, to my sides, to my arms, and finally to my ankles. It takes a lot of jiggling by Inept and Hong Jin (I mean they were jiggling the
wires on me) before they get a reading and a printout (a jagged sine wave, which I suppose is good), which I have to sign. Then without warning or ceremony In Ept jerks all the tape off me, taking huge swathes of hair.
Hong Jin says they are done, and she thanks me for my patience. Then she and Inept leave.
As I get back to work on my writing, I begin to notice a weird clogged sensation in my left ear that extends into my neck and the left
side of my head. It's very very peculiar. So I do some searches on the web for "air in the bloodstream." There don't seem to be very clear symptoms for it, except in severe cases where you would pass out or have a heart attack. Actually, it would be kind of funny to be killed by an exam for life insurance.
Anyway, so far so good.
And let's hope I passed.
So two ladies come knocking at my door, and I let them in. They are carrying some mighty big bags. Hong Jin introduces herself, then the trainee does as well, though I can't understand her. I'm going to call her In Ept. She has short-clipped hair and a round face, and she seems very very young. It soon becomes clear that Hong Jin is going to let In Ept do everything and merely observe.
There are a lot of questions, and In Ept has a lot of trouble reading them. I think it might have something to do with not knowing basic English. She just mumbles past the big words (and there are lots of them), or she just skips them entirely. I quietly read over her shoulder and answer after she finishes each question.
My yes's require an explanation, which In Ept has to write down. She's better at writing than reading, though big words like "ankle" totally throw her. I made notes beforehand, so I point out the words in my notes when she gets stuck. Needless to say, actinic keratosis gives her a time. She really doesn't seem to understand my answers, and Hong Jin has to repeat things to her and pin down wording. I watch as In Ept jots down one wrong word after another.
Then it's urine sample time. In Ept gives me a cup and two stoppered vials and a strip and just randomly says some stuff that doesn't make a lot of sense. I'm glad that Hong Jin finally steps in and explains what I need to do, because I would have done it all wrong. After that, In Ept has to take my blood pressure. She has to do it three times, as a requirement. Each time she tells me what it is, and I'm startled to hear it is 170 over 50 or something else outrageous. But when she writes it down, it's what I would expect it to be. Likewise, when she puts me on the scales, she looks at the readout and says, "180." I tell her no, it's like 159, maybe 160. She says, Oh, 150. (Or maybe she sticks to 180; I'm not certain what she's saying anymore). Hong Jin finally takes a look. "160!" she scolds In Ept. "It's 160." Likewise there's a struggle when In Ept measures my height. She's using a spring-loaded tape measure that keeps spoinging closed. She comes fairly close on that. Then there's my pulse, and I really doubt she got that right.
In Ept then prepares to draw my blood. She's got two test tubes to fill. Needless to say, I'm wondering how this will go down. She works incredibly fast, wiping my elbow area with an antiseptic, telling me to clench my fist, then she grabs up the needle and plunges it in. To my surprise she seems to nail it. Without taping the needle or anything, she just holds it and somehow manages to fill up both test tubes. She then jerks out the needle and tells me to press on the cotton swab. I do so. All seems well.
The EKG is interesting. I've never had an EKG. In Ept has me lie down on the opium couch. No sooner am I lying down than she starts tearing off my shirt. Then comes all the wires and the tape. I can't see what the hell she's doing exactly, but she's attaching them to both sides of my chest, to my sides, to my arms, and finally to my ankles. It takes a lot of jiggling by Inept and Hong Jin (I mean they were jiggling the
wires on me) before they get a reading and a printout (a jagged sine wave, which I suppose is good), which I have to sign. Then without warning or ceremony In Ept jerks all the tape off me, taking huge swathes of hair.
Hong Jin says they are done, and she thanks me for my patience. Then she and Inept leave.
As I get back to work on my writing, I begin to notice a weird clogged sensation in my left ear that extends into my neck and the left
side of my head. It's very very peculiar. So I do some searches on the web for "air in the bloodstream." There don't seem to be very clear symptoms for it, except in severe cases where you would pass out or have a heart attack. Actually, it would be kind of funny to be killed by an exam for life insurance.
Anyway, so far so good.
And let's hope I passed.