Comrade X takes on health care

Recently Comrade Y attempted to describe an encounter with her Capitalist Managed Health Care Organization, but unfortunately was too traumatized by the encounter to be able to describe it accurately (she will, I am told, be describing this encounter in the near future -- stay tuned to this site for the excruciatingly horrifying details). She recovers, I am happy to say, in her tiny overpriced and overpopulated apartment, meditating and medicating in order to become, once again, a fully functional revolutionary warrior. HOWEVER: the medications given her are designed NOT to enhance her revolutionary potential, but to increase her CAPITALISTIC value (I will soon be posting an explanation of how this works from Comrade Marx -- WE NEED THEORY IN ORDER TO PREVAIL!). Comrade X himself recently experienced such an episode, and will describe it while Comrade Y continue to recover. To wit:

Comrade X felt a strange lump, during an exploratory episode, on his left teste. Refusing to panic, as our Capitalist Overlords would have us do in order to spend our last imagined remaining moments on earth buying ALL WE CAN POSSIBLY BUY with what little money we have managed to hide away from the grasping fingers of the fascist IRS and other assorted Ideological State Apparati (such as the State Liquor Taxation Board, the State Gambling Commission, FICA [whatever the fuck THAT is], the State Brothel and Assorted Sundry Sumptuary Law and Taxation Enforcement Organizations), Comrade X made a leisurely appointment with his Primary Care Physician in his bureaucratic Health Denial Organization, Kaiser. Going in with a light heart, and a hearty smile, like some narrator from an Edgar Allan Poe story, impervious to intentional intimations of Worst Case Scenario, Comrade X was treated to a groping by his PCP, who entered the room QUITE QUICKLY after the departure of the nurse, and who turned out to be a member of the opposite gender (her name intimated otherwise!), which he did not expect, and whom he had to confront with his drawers halfway down his legs and all his junk on full display, like some sort of stunned male prostitute caught in the act (by who-knows-who) of making preparations for the disgusting and unenviable job of pleasuring the unpleasurable areas of the dried-up and very, very old (not to mention angry), during which he was forced to point out the lump in question as his PCP could not find it, even after a full five minutes of what in other circumstances might be called "fondling," and would be followed by a rather hefty unofficial bill, followed by a ball-slathering session of a cold lubricant and an even colder "wand" which was connected to some ultrasound device (Comrade X was struck by the irony of having the same device used to both detect life in the womb of a woman and death in the scrotum of a man, upon which he remarked to the humorless Teste-Slathering and Ball-Stroking Technician in charge of showing him the inner workings of his previously unworried-about sack), after which Comrade X was entreated to pull up his pants and leave the room and go home to await the results of the "exploration."

Well, Comrade X does not like to wait, or to be given directives to wait, so the following exchange took place:

"Why can't you just tell me what you see?"
"I'm just the technician -- we need a specialist to read the results."
"So some fuck who didn't even LOOK at my balls is going to look at this sketchy black-and-white picture of whatever the fuck and tell me what he (or she) sees?"
"That's correct, yes."
"Well, don't you think THEY should have been rubbing that cold-ass glop over my balls since they're the ones who have to figure out what's wrong with them?"
"No, they don't do that."
"So they leave it to you?"
"Yes."
"And what training do you have? Were you in a sorority?"
"No, but I went to college."
"College? Really? What was your major? Sack Stroking? Ball Examination? Nut Jobbing?"
"Sir, I understand that ... "
" No you fucking don't! What if they have to cut my balls off? What then? You think I WANT that to happen?"
"Sir, if there's an issue, the doctors ... "
"Wait, what? So some fuck in the radiology lab or wherever reads this piece of shit fuzzy photo and sends to to a doctor and then THEY make a decision as to whether or not to cut my balls off? Based off THIS shit?"
"Sir, I assure you ... "
"No, I assure YOU that I AM NOT going to sit around waiting for fifty different people to look at the insides of my sack before castrating me! Tell me what you see!"
"I don't really know ... "
"Then why the FUCK are you feeling me up and taking these pictures? You have a website you make money off of? You make Scrote-Totes outta people's cut-off and dried-up nutsacks? Little change purses? You got a business, huh?! HUH?! What the capitalist fucking shit is going on here?!"
"Sir, I understand that you're upset ... "
"DAMN STRAIGHT I'M UPSET!"
" ... but there's nothing I can tell you ... "
"THEN WHY AM I HERE?!"
"Because it's a process which ... "
"I CAN FEEL MYSELF UP, THANK YOU VERY MUCH! What the FUCK is going on in my SACK?"
"The doctor will get back to you with the results within ten to fifteen days."
"TEN TO FIFTEEN DAYS!? I have to live with some fucking nut tumor for that long until I hear from a DOCTOR? What the FUCK?!"
"Sir, I WILL call security if ... "
"Then call 'em! I don't give a shit! I'm outraged! What kind of chop shop are you running here? Are you going to harvest my organs, too? What is this shit?!"

And so it continued until Comrade X was unceremoniously taken out of the examination room and back to his doctor, who, while listening to him voice his VERY LEGITIMATE complaints, prescribed the following medications to calm him and prepare him for whatever news lay ahead:

Prozac, Lexapro, Paxil, Xanax, Valium, Quaalude, Lorazapam, Klonopin, Pulmicort, Pulmozyne, Protopam, Provigil, Activase, Astilin, Vagistat-1, V-cilin K, Preparation H, Vermox, Viagra, Vivactil, Yodoxin, Bactrin, Benadryl, Buspar, Bleph-10, Memorase, Memorease, Penisol, Anusol, Rectosal, Colonopin, Sphinctosil, Turdalax, Spermicide, Testicate-2, Rheostat, Morphine, liquid cocaine, pharmaceutical heroin, medical marijuana, Vagilame, Botox, Buttox, Klor-con, K-tab, glue, Gleevec, Gastrocil, Beano, Geocillin, Mazdacillin, Biocillin, Carpocillin, Harpocillin, Grouchocillin, Zeppocine-5, Gummocide, Chicolate, Cilocillin, Cilocillin-C, Januvia, Jolivette, Quinaglute, Quixin, Britospear, Brangelicone, Crapulate, Doodoocine, Scatoscam, Urinol, Urinate, Peppermint tea.

All of which came with a one dollar co-pay. But still.

Comrade X will relay the results as soon as he has them. But fear not! THE REVOLUTION WILL CONTINUE! Even if I have to be the fucking dead-ass martyr for it ...