The picture needs some changes, but I love that dead-eyed duck. Actually, I was looking up at her on her pedestal, clcking away at her pristine PC on her pritsine white lab coat lap. It was our consutation, you know, conditions, medicatioins, allergies. HAH! She glanced at my legs from far across the room, said I had a skin infectioin & wrote an ointment prescrption that only made them worse. Dermatologist anyone?

I was just going to tell her I'd stopped taking Lyrica. (Serious symtoms: mouth so swollen I kept biting the inside of my mouth; call 911! Elephant legs 24/7.) She interrupted me to say my 'fifteen minutes' was up. (I'd already checked it to stop.) No more swelling since!

Life has gotten even more complicated since the UTI. Pressure to make an appointment when as yet, I have no transportaion. Interesting. She was the only doctor accepting patients with my group!

She's not my PCP anymore, either. I cut her of at the knees. She's not a doctor, she's a QUACK. I'm going to post my faxs in a comment, so you can see how my little brain works. Bernard is waiting on Messenger!