What is it about turning 65 and going on Medicare screams "profit margin" to health care providers?
Before, I had the very least minimal health insurance I could get. Think of your car insurance and just keeping enough to get a new tag every year. That was me.
Far from complaining, but when I had my first, and now continuing, series of eye test, medical tests and dental tests when I turned 65, I went from being a healthy, active 65-year-old to being on pills that, if lined up in pill bottles on a countertop, it would look like an art installation. I'm on Cellcept (for the autoimmune disease), Prednisone (inflammation for the autoimmune disease), Lisonpril (blood pressure, probably from anxiety about taking all the pills), Metformin (Ben & Jerry's makes a wonderful ice cream called Salted Caramel Core, and it's double the amount of sugar any normal person should have in a day, much less a person battling impending diabetes), Berberine (anything to reduce blood sugar), Rosuvastatin (What? I have to manage cholesterol, too?), several "old person" supplements like Vitamin D, COQ10, and Folic Acid. There are a couple of other pills in there, too, that I am unsure of what they actually do – oh, and a once weekly pill for osteoporosis, which apparently I have in my lower back. Let's not leave out gingivitis, for which I had to have all my "quadrants"scraped and fumigated and medicated or whatever they do, and my eye tests which determined I have higher pressure than normal, and less than 20% of my optic nerves left.
Having said all this, you must remember that at the end of 2020, I was in great health. My weight was good, range of mobility perfect, eyes tested out same as the last four years and regular teeth cleaning could commence. I had my vaccinations, including flu, and all was good.
So, I ask you, why am I suddenly a member of the walking dead? Why am I popping pills like an out of control hypochondriac, and on doctor's orders no less? And, why are my blood tests that I have every three months getting progressively worse, which determines my apparent need to have even more pills to cram down my throat, at specified times during the day.
The side effects of medications are headaches, nausea and skin so thin that I put a band-aid on the other day (new puppy=necessity for band-aids) and tried to remove it, at which point my skin literally peeled off my arm with it. I'll show you the scar. I still have an open lip ulcer, currently being treated by Betamethasone Dipropionate, which apparently doesn't work, and three separate other topicals for skin and scalp sores. All of these gleefully dispensed by the elves at the pharmacy.
I want to go off all this crap for a year and see if my body returns to normal, or at least 65-year-old normal. But, I'm afraid I'll disintegrate into a pool of jelly. So, I faithfully trudge along, taking a specified regimen of pills at morning, noon, evening and bedtime. I just somehow think the system of prescribing medications to make you well....makes you sick.
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