What might a nomad such as myself do when a non-life-threatening-but-still-annoying ailment dares to intrude upon one’s idyllic existence? Your chances of having a local primary care physician are next to zero, and even if you had one you wouldn’t be able to book an appointment in the foreseeable future. A hospital emergency room is unnecessary, too expensive, a long wait, and a pile hassles. You have Medicare, though, because you’re an old fart.
Urgent care facilities keep their prices down by using physician assistants and nurse practitioners instead of MDs. That’s fine for what I suspected ailed me: an infection in my throat and ears. If that turns out to be the case, and if they have the authority to prescribe antibiotics, I’ll be happy. Considering.
And, yay, the nurse practitioner confirmed my self-diagnosis and sent me on my way to the drug store for a week’s worth of Amoxicillin.
Afterward I thought, you know, the medical industry could use much more of this. So often you just need to see a trained person who can tell you whether you need to take matters to a higher, much more expensive, level. Sometimes all you require is stronger medication than you can get over the counter. Sometimes you just need someone to tell you it’s nothing serious. And sometimes you just want someone to shine a light in your mouth and say uvula.