My belief system is collapsing - part of it, anyway.

I always believed that physicians seriously - almost religiously - continued their training on an ongoing basis after they began practice.  I also believed that they were sincerely interested in protecting the health of their patients and would order any necessary test or prescribe the necessary medication or, if it was not a prescription item, recommend the best natural cure to the patient.  Whatever in their knowledge and experience was best for the patient is what the doctor would do.

Those ideations, I belatedly discover at the age of 64, are total bullshit.  That does not mean I also believe 'big pharma', which has really existed only during my lifetime, went back and suppressed thousands of years of homeopathic cures which worked.  That makes no sense.  If they work...like aspirin...you don't suppress them - you sell them. You already have a winner!  You run with it.

I went to the dermatologist again yesterday.  No one knows what this is because, in two years, no one has ever cultured it for the dermatology department.  The only thing I am absolutely sure of is what doesn't work because they have already tried all of that.  I have had about five courses of Keflex for this in two years.  Nothing.  Guess what the dermatologist said.   I'll bet you have already guessed.  Oh. That's just impetigo.  A course of Keflex will fix that.  "Hey Doug", I said.  "You have given me Keflex for this five times.  Here's an idea!  Culture it, find out what it is, and THEN decide what isn't going to work, you dumbass!  But no worries. You have heard of 'gender re-assignment, right?"

"Welll...yes...." he admits.  "OK, good.  I hate to explain it - it's kinda intense the way I do it.  Anyway, if this isn't completely gone by a week from Friday, I'm going to come back and reassign your gender to a 1.8.  Capice?"

"What's a 1.8?"

"I don't really know beforehand how these things are going to turn out.  It's mostly guesswork - you know - like the treatment I am getting from you."

He looks dumbfounded and I get up and walk out.  For some reason there is still a law against tossing polluters out of the gene pool.  I already know I'm not going to take the Keflex.  By now I must be resistant to every biotic on the planet.  So I decide to cure myself.

I come home and start reading the advice emails....

'You are gluten-intolerant.  From now on eat only peanut-butter and banana sandwiches made from corn tortillas.'   [click]

'You are lactose-intolerant.  From now on drink only dog milk.'   I already do that, dumbass.   [click]

'You are an intolerant bastard!  From now on, kiss my...' [click]  I can't tolerate people like that.  Besides, what kind of daughter writes advice like that to her father?

'Rub hemp oil on it'.  The government has been suppressing the curative proper....[click]

'Rub coconut oil on it. Coconut oil is a good antibiotic which attacks lipid enveloped viruses and bacteria.  The active ingredient in coconut oil is lauric acid.  Lauric acid is produced in human milk and it is what gives babies their ability to fight infections when they are vulnerable.  Lauric acid kills lipid enveloped viruses and bacteria by lysing the lipid (fatty) outer coating of the organism and causing the organism to rupture.  Most antibiotics work by attacking the nucleus of the cell and when the nucleus evolves the organism becomes resistant.  But when you attack the outer envelope, an organism has much greater difficulty in becoming resistant.'    

He also mentioned topical silver.  H/T to my lawyer friend David G. Mills, who is also part doctor and provided all of that advice as well as the logic behind it.

YESSSSSSSSSS!   I call my friend who makes coconut oil and arrange to get a bottle.  Then I got out a couple of uncirculated 1795 Flowing hair bust dollars out of the bag and rigged up a colloidal silver generator.

I put the dollars into a jar of distilled water and watch them melt - then I drive up and get a bottle of coconut oil.  

When I get home, my 'housie' is back from her coven - or wherever she spends her time.  "What's that"?   "Bug butter".  "What?"  "Bug butter.  You catch bugs and flies, mash them up and filter out the legs.  It's good for your skin.  Want some?"  I notice I'm talking to the wall, so I stop.

Checking the colloidal generator, I see the silver dollars have melted, so I turn it off. I  can't decide whether to make a colloidal silver-coconut oil remedy or not, so I don't.  Mt friend calls. "DON'T MELT THOSE DOLLARS!  THEY ARE WORTH $10,000 EACH!"  "Come get 'em. They are still in the jar of water. Maybe you can reverse the electrolysis." 

Wandering back to my rathole, I keep reading email and see that Patty Golden sent me some good advice as well, but that's for next time.  The phone rings.  It's the orthopedic surgery department on Oahu. "When you were in for your knee follow up, the doc noticed that your finger is on crooked."  "Yeah.  He also noticed that I didn't have any stitches."  "Well, he gave you a referral to a hand surgeon.  Can you come on August 9?"  

I'm thinking the orthopedic guy doesn't like someone on Oahu - or, maybe he doesn't like ME.  I toss the coin.  "Sure.  I'll come over.  The free ounce of coffee they spill on you in the airplane is worth the trip."

Housie walks down the hall. She's leaving again.  Maybe there IS a God. "Did you put the trash in my car?" she says.  

"I tried to, but it was locked."

"Where is it?"

"Right in the driveway where you parked it.  HELLO, FLORIDA."  I begin to snicker...

"WHERE IS THE TRASH?!?!?!"

"Oh.  On the hood of your car."