Last night’s doctor visit was one of the more useless ones I’ve had in a long time. Despite all the evidence and my repeated suggestions to the contrary, the nurse practitioner I saw was convinced I’m dealing with acid reflux. Thus, I left the office with a prescription for antacids in my hand. The reasoning I was given was basically: “Try these antacids. They should help. If not, let me know, and we’ll get you an appointment with an endocrinologist for an endoscopy.”

What kind of sense does this make? Let’s say it’s acid reflux. What’s the next step? See an endocrinologist? What if it’s not acid reflux? See an endocrinologist. Rather than having me take the antacids, see if they work, and then sending me to the specialist, why don’t we just cut to the chase? Give me the antacids and get me an appointment with the endocrinologist. End of story.

But noooo… Now I have to spend the next several days waiting to see if prescription antacids clear this whole thing up. Meanwhile, my upper abdomen aches constantly and god forbid should I decide to move around, burp, or turn the wrong way and be treated to the fantastic sensation of someone stabbing me in the gut. This weekend should be awesome. Bring it on!

A perpetual upper abdominal ache that gets worse the more you move. Sounds like something you would want to avoid, right? Well, that’s what I’ve been going through since Saturday afternoon and it’s not fun. Here to tell you more, I give you FlynnTaggart-dot-com’s top investigative reporter: myself. Talking about myself. My guess is that it’s a hiatal hernia, but I’m going to see a doctor later today. We can compare the professional opinion with my own guess after the appointment ends.

I had some free time while eating my lunch today and felt like giving my computer camera a workout. Thus, you get to hear me pontificate about people who fail to chew with their mouths closed. Yeah, it was a slow blog day. There was no script for this video, so most of this is straight off the cuff.

I had the distinct pleasure of having blood drawn today. This is one of those activities with which I have a poor history and it’s due mostly to my body’s repeated attempts to pass out during the procedure. I’m not even sure why this happens. I don’t have an aversion to blood, nor do I cringe at the sight of a needle, yet when I see a needle pierce my arm, I get lightheaded. It’s one of those unpleasant feelings that I don’t want to experience on a regular basis, so I tend to avoid injections and blood drives unless they’re necessary.

I guess it all boils down to the concept of blood being syphoned from my veins. Deep down, my subconscious knows that blood is meant to be kept inside the body. Historically, the loss of blood usually signifies impending death, so I attribute my feelings to the lessons of evolution. Thankfully, I’m not one of those people that refuses medical treatment if it involves needles. Logic wins out on a regular basis and I realize that continued health relies on a regimen of vaccines and blood tests. When it’s needed, I’m always willing to oblige. The trick is to not see the needle and, thankfully, most medical professionals are very understanding.

And in case you’re wondering, my blood work went fine today. Didn’t see the needle, didn’t pass out, and the nurse/technician that drew the blood was an absolute ace. I barely even felt it.