The O.C. Englishman's blog

I survived my first trip to the doctor last week.

I have to take regular medication. In the UK, visits to the doc are free, and if like me you have a ‘chronic condition’ then prescription medication is also free. The great thing about that situation is that you also get free prescriptions for ailments not related to your chronic one – maybe you fancy a nice wig? Free. Ok, you do need the doctor’s approval.

I digress. Of course, in the USA, visits to the doc aren’t gratis and medication isn’t handed out like free candy. No, you gotsta pay. Until we sort out our health insurance situation, we have to bite the bullet and pay all our own healthcare bills. As my medication bought over from the UK was running low, we could no longer put it off – the O.C.E had to find a doctor.

So, Jennifer did some investigation and we picked out Dr Tim Schmidt who practices at the St. Joseph Heritage Medical Group. An appointment was made and we headed down there on the day. After a bit of getting lost at the center (it has numerous doctors working from there plus other facilities) and doing the necessary paperwork, we found our way to Dr Schmidt’s waiting room. From then on it was pretty familiar experience to going to the doctor in the UK. I was ushered to a little examination room and prodded a bit by the nurse, then the doctor came in and we got down to business. I found it quite quaint that he wore a white coat – it’s been pointed out to me subsequently that “of course they do”. It’s obviously the norm here, but not something I’ve seen in the UK for years. Since I was about six years old, as it happens.

Anyway, Dr Schmidt is a very nice chap and we chatted about this and that (mostly health stuff, of course). I gave him all the information I had about my health including the very helpful full blood analysis done by the life insurance company (that saved us an expensive trip to the lab).

I was impressed when he issued my prescription and zapped it over to the Walgreen’s pharmacy down the road from our house. Soon we were all done and we made our escape from the office.

Later that day I wandered over to the pharmacy to collect my medication. My jaw hit the floor when it came to over $40! I know for a fact that in the UK, my levothyroxine costs the NHS not much more than a pound for a month’s supply. Hmmm. Bit of a markup there, I think. After returning from the pharmacy with my tail between my legs I did some research and found that Target will do my medication for $10 for 90 days’ supply. That’s more like it. Bless you, Target.

However, the biggest worry was what the size of the doctor’s bill was going to be. I’d heard nasty stories about a trip to the doc costing the equivalent of the debt of a small African nation. Yesterday the bill hit the mat and I opened it gingerly. Given that I was expecting a couple of hundred, it was relief to to find out it was ‘only’ $69.

However, still a bit more than what I was used to.

Last night I had the dubious pleasure of seeing the glorious Anaheim Angels play the New York Yankees.

I always enjoy a trip to the ball park: the atmosphere, the awful overpriced food and the awesomeness of the best of all the major league venues in the country (as voted by fans, apparently). Usually there are some fans of whichever team is visiting the Angels. Unlike football in the UK, there is no segregation due to the fans’ desire to beat the living crap out of each other. No sir, this is a civilised country!

So, last night we found ourselves surrounded by quite a few vocal Yankees fans. Actually, there were more fans there than I have seen for any previous game. Where had they all come from? Not from New York, surely? If they lived locally, did they all have some kind of old family allegiance or history? Some, possibly.

As I mused on this with Rick and as he explained more, it soon became clear: The New York Yankees are the Manchester United FC of baseball. Yep, they have a large number of ‘fans’ who have chosen to follow the club because of its success and popularity rather than for any regional or familial connection.

Is this a bad thing? It happens everywhere; Manchester United in the UK being a prime example. Many people follow them because of their success, not because of where they live. While true fans may turn their noses up at this, it is at least more feasible to actively support Man U and attend games if one so desires, given the relatively small distances involved in travelling around England.

However, this doesn’t apply to someone in SoCal supporting the Yankees – their home stadium is 3,000 miles away! Fans on the west coast are only going to realistically see them when they are visiting the region. It’s also harder to watch them on TV too because networks show local games (Angels and Dodgers here).

So, what benefit of supporting a club like the Yankees when you live thousands of miles away from their home city; you can’t watch them regularly and you are looked down upon by ‘true’ fans?

Perhaps, like Manchester United and football, the Yankees are for people who don’t really like baseball.

Having been here for two months and still no sign of my social security number (SSN), action was needed.

When I originally applied for my visa, I had ticked a box requesting a number be automatically assigned to me and sent to my address. It was said to take around three weeks, but we figured as the SSN people would only have known about it after they had received the paperwork from the immigration people, it would be three weeks from then. The immigration service got my paperwork on July 23. So, three weeks from then took us to the middle of August.

Having heard nothing from them by then, I had tried calling the SS no-help line a few weeks back to find out how my application was coming along. It took me about 15 minutes to navigate the automated telephone system, during which time I was asked on a number of occasions to enter my social security number. Yes, quite.

Eventually I had spoken to a grumpy woman who told me she didn’t have any information and that I was to call the local office that would be handling my case. I was given a number to call. I was also advised that it was taking about six weeks for numbers to be allocated to new immigrants.

As we were still within that time frame, I decided more patience was in order. I put my faith in the system and sat back to wait….

… until I could wait no more. I tried calling the number I had been given only to find it not to be the SS office. So, last Monday we went down to the local social security office and took a ticket and waited. Mercifully it wasn’t a long wait, but those places are pretty grim. Everyone who works there seems a miserable bugger. Must be in the person spec for the jobs.

Anyway, when we finally spoke to someone and explained the situation, I soon was fuming. When I say fuming, in fact I was livid. Why? Because my application was not being processed. Oh, it had been started but the person doing it decided to not finish it. WTF?! Man, I was shaking with rage.

So, the lady asked me to fill out an application form and she did the necessary on the computer. I had waited over two months to get absolutely nowhere. I haven’t been able to get a driver’s license, start my business or get a store card or life insurance. All because some halfwit didn’t do their job properly.

I expect this sort of thing in the UK, but it seems I can’t escape it the other side of the Pond either.

Yesterday we were getting ready for an evening’s entertainment. Jennifer, Rick and I were in the kitchen. I was sitting and they were standing.

Around 5.50pm, we all heard a double thump sound. Because I was sitting down at the same time as the thump I felt a vibration through my chair. Jennifer and Rick hadn’t felt anything because they were standing up, so just carried on talking. I interrupted them, but as they didn’t seem too bothered, the moment passed. I did try and think what it could have been, because it felt like something had hit the roof of the house. However, as everything seemed in order, we quickly forgot about it.

It was about 20 minutes later that Rick discovered from a friend’s Facebook comment that the boom and vibration had been from the space shuttle Discovery. Due to unstable weather in Florida, it was landing at Edwards AFB in California, and the sonic boom was heard all over Southern California as it came in to land.

How cool was that! Just wish I’d known it was coming beforehand, so I could have enjoyed the moment when it happened.

After a weekend of excess in Vegas and having a “I’ve nothing to wear!” hissy fit when getting ready to go out one night, we returned home with our tails between our legs.

Jennifer was already a member of a local gym, and I was toying with the idea. I have been trying to get out running in the neighbourhood but it’s been hard going. The heat and relentless pounding of the pavements meant I was having trouble keeping motivated and also keeping my heart rate in the right zone; basically my body couldn’t run fast enough to keep up with my ok-ish cardiovascular system.

So, last Saturday I bit the bullet and joined Jennifer’s local 24 Hour Fitness. For us that’s the one down the road on the border of Anaheim and Fullerton. I got a good deal, coming in at $199 for a whole year. Not too shabby, for sure.

Since then we have become gym addicts and gone everyday bar one. Yes, I know that in the flush of new-gym-membership-enthusiasm it is easy to get carried away. However, we’re taking the attitude that while keenness is high, we should make hay while the sun shines. If in the future the number of visits per week drops off, at least we’ve had a good start.

Added to the gym, we have also found a great app for the iPhone called “Lose it!”. This is free, and allows you to log your details and the food you eat and exercise taken. It then keeps track of how many calories you have in your daily ‘budget’. I don’t want to become one of those freaky calorie counting nutters, but it is a great tool to learn what I can eat in a day without going over the top. It was put to good use last night when we had friends over. I diligently recorded my calorific intake and realised that I could still enjoy the nice food and a drink, but there was no need to go OTT. I thus went to bed feeling like I had a good time while not feeling stuffed. As a result, today I feel good about myself.

Anyway, the gym itself is a different to what I was used to in the UK. We used to have a subscription for the Bannatyne’s in Durham which came it at about £27/$45 a month. This was quite pricey, but the facilities were nice and the cardio machines modern and well maintained. Down at the 24 Hour Fitness they do have a larger facility with more equipment. However, a lot of it is showing signs of wear and tear. Some seem to permanently be out of order, while others have functionality not quite right (heart rate monitors missing/broken etc).

That said, I’m finding this new membership great and I feel good after only one week. As to the under-par machines: at around £10/$17 per month I think I can live with them!

As a bloke, I and my blokey mates like nothing more than to discuss toilets and toilet activities. It must have been the way we were brought up.
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