One reason I love elephants is they remind me of my goal: To become extremely old and gray and much wrinkled, like a good elephant. As you read this, I’m hopefully finding a rheumatologist to help me do that.
Elephant jokes to celebrate.
Why don’t African elephants like to play cards?
Because of all the cheetahs.
It wasn’t much of a party yesterday for the birthday. I talked with the Chief Operating Officer of the hospital who made the original report on my bone scan. He explained their peer review process means that the radiology firm who made the errors is the only one qualified to decide whether errors were made. Do you think a firm, polite conversation with me changed his mind?
Today, the radiologist called to say he stands by his claim that my bone scan is perfectly healthy. They cast aspersions on the second opinion since the independent firm is not part of the hospital.
Comic relief elephant joke break:
Where do elephants with skin problems go?
Too bad I can’t go to a pachydermatologist.
I really don’t want to go through this again with a rheumatologist. Like many readers who write to me, I don’t relish being told by another doctor that I don’t “look like” I have RA. We all know people who won’t go to the rheum doc anymore and I understand.
You go to the doctor to get medicine. But why go when the prescriptions don’t bring any relief?
I guess because there’s another reason to go. If you have RA, you go to the rheumatologist to help you monitor progress of the disease so you can take better care of yourself. It amounts to preventive care. Since I hate hypocrisy, I have to practice what I preach, and go to another rheumatologist.
But you won’t mind if I’m honest about how I feel, right? Frustrated. Weary. Uneasy.
I hate mentioning significant symptoms and being told “You don’t have that because it’s rare” or “Your RA is in remission.” People call or write me and tell me that it’s not worth the risk to have another doctor raise their eyebrow and make them feel foolish. I’m only trying to protect my own health and life.
The last time I tried to ask a question, I got a certified letter dismissing me. Regular readers and good friends know I’m the polite compliant patient who brings muffins to show appreciation to the staff. I don’t risk offending rheumatologists by letting them know I read journal articles or write a blog. But none of that has helped.
Maybe telling an elephant joke would.
Why did the elephant fall out of the tree?
Why did the second elephant fall out of the tree?
He was glued to the first one.
Why did the third elephant fall out of the tree?
He thought it was a game.
Why did the fourth elephant fall out of the tree?
Because when his mother asked “If all your friends jumped out of a tree, would you?” he said “Yes!”
Why did the tree fall down?
It thought it was an elephant.
I’ll let you know how it goes.