As noted here, I made a trip to the doctor for a particularly nasty case of the bronc a couple of weekends ago. I saw a different doctor this time at the same office, a short, round, bald man who appeared to be in his 50s.
The nurse practitioner who saw me before the doctor did came in to take my blood pressure and whatnot, and asked, “Do you smoke?”
……… yes, I said somewhat apologetically.
“I’ll spare you the lecture.”
Wow! A nurse practitioner who doesn’t lecture! I thanked her and lit up.
Doc came in, took one listen to my breathing and said, “Sounds like you’re asthmatic.”
Hmmm? Come again? But I don’t have “asthma attacks,” I protested. I don’t carry an inhaler, and even “competed” in sports in high school with no issues whatsoever (other than the dearth of athletic talent that hampered me at every turn).
“Doesn’t matter. Could be something in your system that sets it off at times like this.”
Last guy I saw here said I had a pretty severe case of bronchitis.
“Might be. Different doctors take different approaches.”
Oh.
Anyway, the approach Doc took was of the big-stick variety: he gave me a shot, prescribed some more Singulair, some amoxicillin, some Zyrtec, and a cough suppressant (Tussin-something or other). The cough suppressant should not be taken while drinking, so what do you think I avoided in Tunica? That’s right – the cough suppressant. It tastes awful, regardless. If it tasted like happy, I may have just risked taking it while drinking.
Before he left the room, I said, “I’m guessing it would probably help me immensely if I stopped smoking.”
He laughed. Heartily. Said, “What’s that joke about the bear in the woods?”
Point taken.
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