Play Misty For Me, Part 2

I read recently that the average couple will spend somewhere north of $250,000 for medical costs in their retirement years. Hopefully, that means some co-operative hypochondriac in Nebraska will be plunking down $500,000 or so, enabling the couple I'm half of into a more moderate range, allowing us to budget for a meal once in awhile as well. Based on my recent medical activity, I'm not counting on it.

Today, was a repeat visit to Misty. You remember her, the cheeriest Urologist on the planet? I was back in the office to discuss the effects of the medication she had prescribed for me a couple of months ago. After leaving the tiniest urine sample of my entire life behind that little silver door (note to self: do not use the bathroom before leaving the house when your Urologist's office is ten minutes away), I settled in to wait for Misty to make her appearance. When she did, she asked me the usual litany of questions. How was I feeling? Were the pills helping? Did I have any adverse side effects? When I answered "okay", "yes" and "dry mouth, weird taste in my mouth and, oh, yeah, a possible disturbance in my vision" I could tell I had her attention.

That's when we started talking about my alternatives. She suggested another medication at a lower dose (a non-generic, highly advertised drug that had a monthly cost somewhere in the neighborhood of a night in a hotel room in Florence) while I suggested setting up a chair and TV in the bathroom and a UPS delivery of a carton of Depends.

We compromised. I'm going off the current, possibly vision-robbing medication and playing the wait and see what happens game. I'm also going to cut carbonated drinks and caffeine out of my diet. If I'm lucky, that will be enough to bring my symptoms into the 'tolerable' range. But, if I end up returning to the previous pattern of making more than twenty-seven visits to the bathroom in a single twenty-four hour period, I might have to break down and turn to Plan B - the free month's supply of that other, expensive drug that was Misty's parting gift.

And, if all else fails, you can bet I'll be watching my Sunday paper for a decent coupon for that box of Depends.