A Horse's Ass

Have I ever mentioned that I have no patience with pompous people?

This morning I had an appointment with an allergist about the recurring burning lesions on my body. My regular doctor was stumped as to what was causing them, so she referred me to the allergist.

My appointment was for 8am, first one of the day. I got there five minutes early, filled out the ubiquitous paperwork, and waited. And waited. Around 8:15, Dr. H. Ass ambles in the door and goes to his office to ... finish his coffee? Have a good long scratch?

At last he opens his door and calls my name. He introduces himself nicely enough, and then proceeds to interrupt me repeatedly while I'm telling him about my symptoms, using a very haughty tone of voice. To him, I'm ignorant of his specialty, and therefore, stupid. "There is no allergy shot for Spandex sensitivities," he sneered, as if I had asked for one. "Only avoidance."

When I explained that I had thrown out all my garments that had Spandex, he pressed his lips together and suggested I'd used a jacket or some shirt that I didn't know had Spandex.

Finally he looked at the lesions. "Those are insect bites," he pronounced primly. When I said they weren't, he suggested that my dog has fleas, and the fleas were biting me. "Don't the other people in your family have these spots, too?"

No.

On and on, with me getting more irritable by the second. Finally, he said, "Obviously you've come into contact with something that causes an allergic reaction. Take an antihistamine and administer an anti-itching cream." He wrote two prescriptions, one for Allegra, which I've taken in the past and has no affect on me whatsoever, and for an itch cream like your basic hydrocortisone stuff.

"Wait," I said as he shuffled his papers dismissively. "My husband found something online about skin eruptions as a result of ibuprofen. What are the chances this could be from ibuprofen? I've had to take a lot of that this spring."

His narrowed eyes showed me exactly what he thought of online medical information. "Anything you find in FDA-approved medicines lists 'rash' as a possible side effect. But the chances are very low that ibuprofen is causing this."

I nodded, thanked him, let his office assistant make another appointment for me in three weeks or so. The prescription is in my paper-shredding pile, the appointment I'll cancel in a few days. The last thing I want to do is put my health care in the hands of someone who cannot tell when he has offended his patient.

It's too early to tell, but I stopped taking ibuprofen for the lingering ache in my neck two days ago, and no new lesions have erupted.

Yes, I am ignorant of his specialty. And he's ignorant of mine. He's going to make a great character in a story.