Tag: Walgreens

What’s Up, Doc?

How to Find a Doctor?

By Mitchell Slepian

Until you glanced at the subheader, I bet you thought I was writing about that rascally rabbit, Bugs Bunny. Well, finding a doctor could be like walking into the world of Looney Tunes. It can be a trick or treat.

When Doctors are Picked for You

Sometimes, doctors are picked for us. Sometimes not. Sometimes, we pick the right physician and get well. Sometimes, we get sicker than before we went for our examination. When doctors are picked for us, I mean when you’re a kid, and mom brings you to the doctor. My mom (full disclosure: she’s a retired RN) always scheduled appointments for me. Nothing was wrong. She was known as a holiday or weekend ruiner. If we had a holiday weekend, I wound up at the pediatrician, the dentist, or the ophthalmologist. 

Doctors are picked for you when you walk into or are flown to the ER. You don’t have a choice. You are stuck with the ER docs. I have done it a few times. My first kidney stone (I’ve had four) was in May 2013. I went to the ER. The doctor was fine. My mom liked her. That was a plus. I remember her calling her friend, another retired RN and saying this doctor and treatment seems fine.

Picking a Doctor Recommend on the Hospital’s Discharge Sheet

After kidney stone number one, I walked out of the hospital feeling somewhat better from the morphine and Toradol. I thought they said tortellini not Toradol. I guess I wanted good food. In hand was a list of urologists. The next day, I called the first one on the list. At the time, he was about a ten-minute walk from my residence. He was very nice and knew what he was doing. A few weeks later, he performed the procedure to remove the stone. My mom liked him.

When a Doctor Picked for You Might Be Clueless

About a decade later, I got stone number two. It was over Rosh Hashanah. I walked home from a nice lunch and felt sick. My mind flashed back to my first stone. I called Mom. She knew something was wrong since I was calling on a holy day. I told her what was happening and said I would shower and try to sleep. If I am still feeling sick after an hour, I will head off to the ER. It lasted about 30 minutes until I headed to the hospital. I noticed an orthodox woman being triaged a few stations next to mine. It’s a great way to start the head of the year. The doctor prescribed a painkiller for me to pick up at CVS, not Tamsulosin (Flomax), the drug used to treat kidney stones. Of course, I did a CT scan. I have had many. The radiologist reported two nodes in my lungs. The ER doctor told me about this and said it was a sign I probably had lung cancer, and I needed to get it checked. 

When Mom Picks the Doctor

I freaked out about the possibility I had lung cancer. I called Mom. She said I did not and to call the urologist. I called his office, they were shocked the doctor didn’t prescribe Tamsulosin. I went to see him and got the prescription. Sadly, he is now two subway trains or an Uber away from me. 

My mom said she knew a pulmonologist and had no worries that I had lung cancer. I went to see him. I was decked out in my Yankee apparel. He’s a fan of the Bronx Bombers. He looked at the hospital CT scan. He said, here’s your kidney stone. That’s for your urologist. Here’s part of your lungs. Here are the nodes. He noted since it was an abdominal scan, it didn’t show my full lungs, and the ER doctor should have never said anything about cancer, particularly because only a portion of my lungs were on the scan. He prescribed another CT scan. It showed nothing. We briefly chatted about Mickey Mantle and that was it.

Doctor My Eyes

Maybe Jackson Browne is singing about me? I hope the doctors who are doctoring my eyes aren’t running on empty. I have been wearing glasses since I was about five. So, my eyes needed to be doctored. My first ophthalmologist was the one my dad went to. He was fine. I had a few different eye doctors over the years. Most were fine. Eventually, I found one my mom knew; he was the best. I went to him for many years until he was forced to retire early due to a medical condition. Years ago, I had a vision issue, and he spent quite a bit of time on the phone with my mom, walking her through what needed to be done. I wouldn’t have understood a word they said. All worked out well. 

After his retirement, the doctor who took over his practice was a colorful and fun character. No problems. I liked him. The only problem was I moved, and heading to his office from my new location took too long. I found someone near my former midtown office. He was decent. I needed an eye drop prescription filled. He said he’d do it right away. Over a month later, I was still waiting. I called his office regularly and was told they were working on it. Eventually, I was able to stroll into Walgreens and get the eye drops.

A former friend of my mom’s, a general practitioner, suggested I write a review on Zocdoc. I did. Nearly two years later, I walked into his office for an exam. His assistant dilated my eyes. Then he came and complained to me about the review and said he could do this exam if I wanted. But he would never see me again. I told him, you already dilated my eyes it would have made more sense to call me before the appointment and cancel. He just looked at me. I did the exam. All was well.

A few years later, I went to another ophthalmologist. He did a visual field and said my pressure was very high. He wanted to do surgery. I checked with other eye physicians. They said it was not high. The number was about two points below what’s considered high. I now go to one of my friends for eye exams. We do the exam and talk about a special swimming hole that no longer exists in our beloved summer camp. If you want to see it in your eyes, you need to look carefully. That may not be what Peter Gabriel meant in his tune. But be careful.

A Doctor Who Bilks the Elderly and Others

I had back pain. It has happened. Thankfully, not in many years. I hope I am not jinxing myself. I went to a general practitioner that I knew. She did a physical and decided I had high blood pressure. I didn’t. Like the visual field, the numbers were a few points below high BP and could have gone either way. She wanted me on all sorts of meds and sent me for tests. I didn’t take the meds. I did one of the tests. It showed nothing. I went from my office to Cornell Medical Center on a very wet day. I was so drenched I had to go to the Gap and buy a new outfit to return to work. 

Here’s another one of her foul ups. She was supposed to send my records to the hospital before my kidney stone procedure. The hospital and urologist requested them. She never did. She said she forgot. I once told this story to another doctor. She said, I shouldn’t ask this, but it is…? I said yes. She said the doctor is known for these problems and for messing around with overbilling the elderly. Her Zocdoc reviews were loaded with stories. I didn’t write one. After my experience with the eye doctor, I decided I would never write a review again. I could write many great reviews and a few bad ones. BTW, Zocdoc has been very helpful when picking a physician and making an appointment. Some of the docs have been awful. A few have been fine. 

Getting Your Diet Right

Last August, kidney stone number four made me cancel my vacation to Milan. I got my money back and plan to go. But I have been freaking out since August 2024. I have been reading nonstop the flyers from the urologist on proper dieting to prevent stones. I visit legit sites like the American Urological Association, Mayo Clinic, and the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Health. I do not trust Dr. Google or social media for medical advice. I decided to see a dietician. I did it years ago and did OK. I found one on Zocdoc, and the hell started. I misread her profile and mistook MS for MD. I guess I need to doctor my eyes a little more. 

I did three sessions and ran. The first session was basic. She told me to download an app to take images of what I was eating. One night before attending the NY Philharmonic, I went to PJ Clarke’s and had their burger and fries with a Stella. She’s the best woman out there. One day I need to go to Belgium to see her birthplace. I told her about other things I eat. Mind you, I am controlled and eat a very low sugar diet and stay away from salt as much as possible. All the good things are all the bad things. She flipped out that I went to Clarke’s. The next session she was still attacking the place. She said her parents live near Lincoln Center, and she is very familiar with the restaurant. She must have had bad service, didn’t like her meal, or had a bad date at this venue. She wanted me to buy vitamins from some vitamin sales company she gets a commission from. I did not. 

She said I should do blood work to help her figure out my diet. I said OK. She got the results, which were fine. Some items were borderline. But not high. Basically, from what the RNs and MDs I know that I sent it to say, you have nothing to worry about. The dietician also said she forgot to ask them to test for a few things. But the labs just do that anyway. So, it doesn’t matter that I forgot. Those items were not included from the lab. The medical professionals I spoke to say the lab will only test what’s on the prescription. She told me I was diabetic. She also said I had nonalcoholic liver disease and needed a liver test. Then she said she is an elite runner and a trainer and tried to sell me her services. This nut thought I was going to have lung failure. That’s when I said goodbye.

The scary thing is she billed my health care provider $2600 per session. They paid her $520. Therefore, she made about $1600 for around two hours’ worth of work. Is she stupid? As a dietician, she is the dumbest of the dumb. Her eating recommendations conflicted with what the urologist said. Her scamming was off the charts. Thankfully I did not fall for it. She said, I needed to see her for at least a year to correct my lung, liver and other issues.

The bottom line is to stay healthy. Jumping back to Peter Gabriel, picking a doctor can be like playing games without frontiers.

Lunch at the Office

What it Used to Be and What it is Now

By Mitchell Slepian

Pre-Covid-19, lunch at the office used to be fun. Most of us ate at our desks. Of course, there were times when we went out to lunch. Either a group from the office went to get out, or we went alone. We used to see which place had the best pizza, burger, pasta, or taco. Sometimes, we would grab something from the salad bar, deli, or fast-food joint, head back to the office, and eat in a conference room, someone’s office, or the break room.

Occasionally, we took someone out to celebrate a birthday, engagement, divorce, or promotion. At times, we met a friend who worked nearby. Or even better, had a lunch date. That was the way to do it. You and the person you were with knew you were on your lunch hour. So, you had a couple of slices and got to know each other. If it worked, you planned something. If it fell into the usual case, you returned to your desk thinking you should have gone to Walgreens at lunchtime. 

How COVID-19 Wrecked the Fun Office Lunch

Then came COVID-19. We worked from home and ate in our kitchens, dressed in Yankees or The Cure t-shirts. The Cure or Depeche Mode was cranking. Eventually, we went back to the office. Some went back full-time. Most, like me, are on a hybrid schedule. 

Back to Eating at Work

On the days I work in the city, I bring my lunch pail. I don’t slide down my dinosaur-like Fred Flintstone at lunchtime to go on my break and eat a pterodactyl bird or brontoburger. For the most part, I stick to salads. These days, most people bring their lunch. Why? Well, many of the places we used to go to are closed. It is sad to walk down NYC’s streets and see many lunch joints boarded up. Those that are still open are pricier than ever. You can make almost two- or three days’ worth of salads for what they charge for a small one with one or two add-ins. For the record, I preferred the salad bars where the hat, apron, and glove-wearing employee made your salad v. all-you-can-eat, slop everything into a dish salad bar, and weighed at the register stores. Too many people used their grubby hands to load up their bowls. 

The Office Breakroom – Scary It Can Be

Let’s discuss the office’s break room. You remember those. It is a tiny or decent-sized room with a refrigerator or two, a filthy microwave, a beat-up toaster oven, a grime-filled sink, a Keurig and water cooler for hot water for the tea drinkers, and cold water to quench your thirst. The vending machines never work. You used to lose your dollar bills. You still lose them. But now you can tap your phone to pay with Apple Pay, and your M&M’s or Pepsi don’t come out of the machine. The room usually has napkins, paper towels, plates, coffee, and other cups, roaches and paper plates. People sometimes sit on chairs that are not rocking chairs. But the chairs rock. The chairs are placed by beat up tables that shake. The Department of Labor rules and the emergency escape plan are somewhere on the wall. Don’t forget the fire extinguisher. It’s probably not working. Good luck if there’s a fire.

Let’s go to the office refrigerator. Have you ever gone in to get your sandwich and couldn’t find it? Years ago, it happened to me. It was in a Barnes & Noble bag. Remember that store? I didn’t see the bag and thought someone had stolen my lunch. It happens. What boggles my mind is it was a homemade sandwich. I would be less upset if someone stole my lunch from the store. I would never steal anyone’s lunch. But it makes more sense to steal something that a store prepared. You have no idea what the person’s kitchen looks like. It could look like a slop pit. At the local bodega, you usually see the people crafting your meal. Sometimes, I’ve walked into those stores and right out after a quick look around. You probably have never seen the person’s home kitchen. Worse, the sandwich could have been made by someone picking their nose while slapping the roast beef onto the roll.

Let us return to my stolen bag. I went down to a store and bought lunch. Yeah, I looked around. The store was fine. I returned to the fridge to get something out and saw my sandwich. The person stole my Barnes & Noble bag. Not my lunch. Someone needed a bag. Why steal from the office fridge? They should have gone to the mailroom or reception area where there were many bags. Someone said maybe they wanted it to be used as a gift bag, and it looked nicer than the typical plastic or paper bag. Who knows? 

Also, did you ever see what was in the office fridge? Some salads have turned colors other than green. The sandwiches had moldy blue bread. The office milk might have been sitting there since the flood. People keep liquids in containers that resemble the water on the tracks of NYC’s subway. Sometimes, the aroma you get when you open the doors could knock you out. Take a quick peek in the freezer. Sometimes, there is ice. It is often covered in crumbs or pieces of who knows what. 

Then there are those people who bring their lunch in bowls or dishes. Did you ever watch them stand by the sink after they eat? They stand there for what seems like an hour. No one else can get near the sink while they are there. Ah, come on, people, give it a quick spray of soap and water and toss it in your bag. You will get much cleaner in your kitchen sink or dishwasher at home—the same for your coffee mug or teacup. Many people keep those at their desks or in a cabinet in the office kitchen. You can give those a little more cleaning love. But do it quickly. How could you keep a personal mug in a cabinet with other people’s mugs? Some could touch it or grab it by mistake.

Who wants to meet for lunch?