Author: Joel Bernstein

  • Don’t let your doctor intimidate you: A personal story

    Don’t let your doctor intimidate you: A personal story

    It was a balmy fall day last year, when I walked through the surprisingly creaky door of a well-respected ophthalmologist, who shall remain nameless. Let us call him, Dr. G.

    Why was I there? I needed to have cataracts removed from both my eyes. Dr. G was highly recommended by my usual ophthalmologist, a wise, older man who long ago gave up doing surgery.

    A word about cataracts: When you’re older and have blurry vision, it’s generally caused by something called a cataract. Older adults often have the cataracts or clouded lenses of their eyes surgically removed and replaced with an artificial lens. This surgery requires no hospitalization. The operation itself lasts about ten minutes. Recovery is generally less than half-an-hour. It’s a very quick and common procedure. And, Medicare pays for it.

    My vision was actually quite good and the doctor found nothing wrong with it. I could see long distances. And, I could see close up with reading glasses. But, he recommended I see Dr. G. because I had suddenly begun to hate driving at night; the oncoming lights blurred my vision and bothered me. So I made an appointment.

    Dr. G’s waiting room was packed to capacity. Even though I couldn’t find a seat, I was impressed. After a long wait, two assistants examined me superficially but well enough to hand Dr. G some needed information. He pointed out to me a machine he liked to use that Medicare did not cover.

    “Medicare,” Dr. G said, “doesn’t care how well I do my job, but I care. This machine costs three hundred dollars, per eye, but it provides important information. I’m using it if it’s okay with you.”

    What should I have said, “no, it’s not okay with me?” Should I have revealed that I’m a piker, that I couldn’t afford six hundred bucks? I said, meekly, “okay.”

    He proceeded with the examination. He told me something my doctor had never mentioned: that I had astigmatism in one eye.

    “Really?” said I, “I never knew that.”
”Well, you know it now,” said Dr. G.
Astigmatism has to do with how the eye focuses light. Apparently, my left eye doesn’t do light very well. Dr. G went on to explain that the astigmatism will require a tomic lens.

    “What’s that? I asked.

    “It’s a more sophisticated lens used to treat astigmatism,” Dr. G explained. “You need it. But it’s not fully covered by insurance. Should we go ahead with it? Say, yes.”

    When it was all over it took awhile for my eyes to adjust. Friends who had the same surgery said they could see amazingly clearer right away. I could not. I saw distances the same way I saw them before the operation. Reading was a problem; I needed a new prescription for reading glasses.

    A few weeks passed before Dr. G’s office barraged me with bills, some of which I paid until it got to be ridiculous, and I stopped paying.

    Moral of the story: Ask questions, don’t be intimidated by doctors, and don’t be so quick in allowing them to do whatever they want to do. There are great doctors out there, as we all know, doctors who are honest and who care, doctors who take Medicare as payment in full. But every once in awhile you come across a doctor like Dr. G. G for gonif.

    Here are some tips on how to choose a doctor and four questions to ask yourself about your primary care doctor to understand whether the doctor is meeting your needs. As for your eyes, here are four things to do to protect your eyesight and what to do if you think you may have glaucoma.

  • REMEMBER WHEN…there were love songs?

    REMEMBER WHEN…there were love songs?

    Nobody writes the old style love songs anymore. That line itself could be the beginning of a love song, which nobody writes anymore. Where are the Gershwins, the Yip Harburgs, the Jerome Kerns’s? And, most especially, where is Irving Berlin?Is it reasonable to miss them and the songs they created?

    Take Berlin. He was born in Russia, came to America as a child, lived in the tenements of New York, became a singing waiter in Chinatown, and rose to become dean of American songwriters. This Jewish boy’s “White Christmas” became a mega-hit. He wrote hundreds of songs, including “God Bless America,” and the very popular love song, “Always,” which he wrote in 1925 as a gift to his wife.

    I’ll be loving you, always, with a love that’s true always,

    When the things you’ve planned, need a helping hand,

    I will understand, always.

    It probably doesn’t get anymore sentimental than that. In fact, sentimentality, tenderness, mawkishness have come to define the old love songs, many of which people of a certain age still croon off-key in the shower when no one’s around to hear them.

    Leonard Cohen writes love songs of a different ilk. He includes in his lyrics death and suffering, melancholy and despair. “I never considered myself a romantic person,” Cohen once told an interviewer. “I find it very difficult to locate sentimentality or nostalgia or that kind of warm passion…so I’m not sure what is meant by romantic love.” If you insist on proof that Leonard Cohen was no one’s idea of a romantic, consider this from “Death of a Ladies Man”:

    So the great affair is over but whoever would

    have guessed it would leave us all so vacant

    and so deeply unimpressed.

    And this from “Everybody Knows”:

    Everybody knows that the war is over

    Everybody knows that the good guys lost.

    If you’re wondering if Cohen ever recorded Irving Berlin, the answer is, yes. He recorded “Always.” But the critics believe he was satirizing the lyrics.

  • Then and Now: TV Time

    Then and Now: TV Time

    Not so long ago . . . to watch Lucy, or Gleason, or Milton Berle, or All in the Family, or any of those shows, you had to be there, facing the TV, when they were on the air. There was no such animal as “On Demand” or TIvo. There was no flexibility, no watching at your leisure. The networks ruled your life, told you exactly what day and what time to show up and view. If you weren’t there, you missed it. Period. Or, if you were lucky, you’d catch a rerun.We didn’t have much choice in what we watched either. CBS, NBC, ABC, PBS and a few local stations perhaps. The network offerings were limited.  There was no cable. The TV was simple to use, with an on-off button and a channel selector.
    Back then, television brought us together. Wherever we lived in the country, we watched the same programs at the same time. We watched as a family, mom, dad and kids. People would get together at the office the next day to discuss what they saw on TV. Television united us, helped make us one nation.Today, everyone in the household is likely to have his or her own screen. I haven’t seen the data, but anecdotally it seems that, after dinner, everyone retreats to his or her room and watches something different. Or downloads. Or streams. It’s a whole new world of viewing.Now we might discuss Homeland or Breaking Bad or some other show over lunch at work, but just as likely no two people at the table would have seen the same show at the same time.

    Just recently, CBS, the Tiffany Network, the avatar of appointment television, announced that it was beginning to experiment with subscription streaming, signaling the beginning of the end of old fashion television. And yet, all is not lost. Because what, after all, will CBS be streaming? Those old, popular shows, the ones we once had to make appointments to watch.