You may have heard of the ChicomFlu. It has been all over the news, and, evidently it is all Mr. Trump’s fault. Interestingly, the same folks voicing concerns about Mr. Trump being a fascist dictator, who is planning on a putsch in order to become President For Life, also are criticizing him for failing to seize control of the economy, and not dictating the minutiae of our lives in order to Halt! This! Scourge!. Apparently, that entire Federalism thing, and Tenth Amendment thing, bypassed these commentators in Government class.
Or else, our government schools failed them. Again.
So, in clinical medicine, in 2020, we now have drive in care. Care, that is, of a sort. So, folks drive up (remember that point), announce themselves (no clown’s mouth, thankfully!), and our registrar trots out and registers them. Our MA does preliminary interview, and obtains most of the vital signs (except BP). I then suit up in an impermeable gown, goggles, N-95 mask, with another lesser mask over top of it to prolong it’s service life, and gloves, and stroll out. I interview them through the vehicle window, examine ears, throat, auscultate heart sounds and breath sounds (and, by the way, I can tell you things about your engine and transmission). With this information, I form a diagnosis, formulate a plan of care, and instruct the patient in that plan.
I nearly always ask if my patient smokes. If the answer is affirmative, my response if “Stop doing that!” Occasionally, when the answer is “No”, I have indisputable olfactory evidence that this is an untruth. If I can smell your marijuana fumes through two masks, you are doing it wrong.
*History Lessons* If you live in Bagwanistan, or Cuomo Valley New York, or, really anywhere, KNOW YOUR DAMNED MEDS! It's commonly considered to be A GOOD THING if I avoid prescribing a medication that, in concert with whatever crap you take daily, will turn you into a flaming zombie, or cause your ears to drop off. So write that shit down someplace where you can find it. This appears to be a novel insight to a significant fraction of the population. And, while you're at it, ask your pharmacist what you're allergic to, and WRITE THAT DOWN, as well. And, for those of you who are thinking that “All that is in my record!”, uh, well, if your records are in, say FREAKING FLORIDA, it might be a bit difficult for me to access. Particularly on weekends, or after 1800 hours their time. By the way, this also applies to folks whose records are in Milwaukee, and are visiting Flambeau Hospital, since that is the nearest healthcare to Copper State Park in BFE, Wisconsin. Big City Hospital in Milwaukee may not see us as an entertainment subsidiary of their megalithic hospital system, and your info may well be securely hidden away, from us. Jes' sayin.