  That Time When I Spilled Piping Hot Gravy All Over Myself. So. I went to a Naturopathic doctor. Yeah, I know. *mimes masturbating* No, no, that's my conservative Alaskan side coming out. Stupid hippies.
If you love your precious rain forest so much, why don't you marry it? ZING! Anyways, I had a tonsillectomy a couple years ago due to my tonsils being inflamed and painful and the doctor who performed the operation screwed up. After the tonsillectomy I spent a fortnight or two eating jello and popsicles and letting my throat heal. (FYI, when your diet is liquid, throwing up is a pleasure) Even though my throat should have completely healed within a couple weeks, I was still feeling pain in a specific side of my throat, so I made another appointment with Dr. Burgoyne. After taking a look down my food-hole he told his clipboard that he "missed some tonsillur tissue and wanted to try some medication".
I told HIM I paid for a tonsillectomy and would like the rest of my tonsils out, please. He countered with some attractive discounts on the proposed follow-up operation, but I respectfully declined. After carefully explaining my position on not paying for his mistake I was shown to the lobby while he and Virginia Mason's "Let's not get sued" lady retreated to a back room. They returned shortly and she was very happy to tell me Virginia Mason would write-off my second operation, which is something all hospitals are allowed to do to a certain amount. I had the operation the next month and spent another couple weeks healing. I went back to see Dr. Burgoyne again because my throat was still hurting and it was difficult to sing or talk for long periods.
He glanced at the back of my mouth and said the pain was, "probably acid-reflux. Go see a stomach doctor. " Ta Da! What a guy. His obvious concern for my health made me grow a big rubbery one. I tell ya, doctors are dicks.
Don?t be fooled, they work for the insurance companies. That might sound like cliche, jaded hippie talk, but it's true. I spent the next two years seeing various stomach doctors, throat doctors, general internal doctors, and taking whatever medications they prescribed. End result: a big, fat raspberry. (Would you rather get a physical exam from a man or a woman? Either answer's reasons are strange to me.
So, I recently saw a very nice naturopathic doctor lady who, after talking with me about my health issues for a good hour, said she thought my throat pain stemmed from food allergies. She referred me to an allergiesiest...allergiesyologist...allergy lady across the hall that tested me. The procedure didn't involve any of those horrid scratches most people hear about; I held a metal bar in my left hand and she zapped my right hand with a small electric impulse. The equipment was connected to a computer with a database of foodstuffs and their energy readings. She'd select a food, zap my finger, and the computer would record how long it took for that particular substance to travel through my body. A number would then be displayed which indicated whether or not I'm allergic and if so, how much.
Whatever. I'm no allergineographer. She zapped me and told me what I'm allergic too. Now I'm eating bread made out of some weird non-wheat substance as well as avoiding chicken, pasta, and everything else that is lovely. She also gave me this little bottle out of which I take five drops, two times a day and it builds up my resistance to all the things I'm allergic to. It'll take a couple months, but I'll be dropping out of college to start another band ANY day now.
HA HA! Just kidding Mom! I'm going to be doctor and run my practice out of an office in the downstairs of my three story house and I'll have way too many kids that keep growing up and moving back in and my wife will be a sassy lawyer with attitude that always kind of freaked me out when she'd act happy because she'd act way TOO happy and it seemed really forced. Oh Claire. You acted tough, but had a heart of gold. The End. 
