Doc-in-a-Box…

One of the trials and tribulations of getting older is that we don’t bounce back quite as quickly from obnoxious little illnesses as we did when Thursdays were for dime drafts. I was over the worst of the cold I caught about a week ago, but the sinus pressure hadn’t really let up and I kept a nagging cough that I could never quite convince to go away. So, after a week of hoping for the best and wheezing and snorting my way around west Tennessee, I figured it was probably time to consult a professional. Although I do have a “regular” doctor who keeps a very nice office downtown, I’ve found the more convenient option to be going to the doc-in-a-box in one of the nearby shopping centers. I was literally in and out in 30 minutes with a diagnosis of my regular post cold sinus infection and bronchitis, two handfuls of samples, three prescriptions, and $75 worth of coupons. A quick trip to Kroger and I was loaded down with nasal spray, super-powered antibiotics, and codeine-enriched cough pills… and a bill of $6.37. All of that is a long way of saying how much I love this clinic. If going to the doctor were always that easy, I’d be there three times a month. Seriously, they’re that friggin awesome. So, my friends, if you ever find yourself in Memphis and in need of large doses of powerful medications, the Methodist Minor Medical family of clinics should be able to fill the bill nicely. They’ve got my personal seal of approval.

Can’t let go…

I know I should be putting the whole sordid experience behind me now, but I just can’t quite seem to let the last four weeks go that easily. I’ve given up being disturbed by the structure of the class itself and its mind-numbingly repetitive combination of research and briefings. Currently, my greatest concern is that looking back at it in retrospect there were a disturbing number of what I can only assume are reasonably intelligent people who didn’t seem to be at all troubled by the issues that were driving me all but over the edge. I suppose there’s always the possibility that they’re right and I’m wrong, but I don’t think that’s the case. I’ve never thought of myself as a free thinker or a radical, but in the context of people who work for the Army, perhaps that’s what I’m becoming by degree. The idea that we’re doing something just because someone with the title coach or colonel says it’s the way makes less sense to me as time goes on. Prove to me that what you’re saying makes sense or that it’s a better way to do business, but my days of blind faith are long gone. I guess as I look back on it, I grow more frustrated that so few “leaders” recognized the waste for what it was and that virtually none were willing to call it out when they saw it.

I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the lesson that I was supposed to take away from the experience, but there it is. The real question, then, is whether I’m willing to keep calling the spades when I see them and dealing with the fallout or whether I’ll give it up and go along to get along.