47 Monroe Doctrine & How it Relates to the Medical Field

My knuckle is still screwed. It's pathetic. I'm an old man for god's sake, bad back, arthritis, achy muscles, & now this damn knuckle...
Also my sleep pattern is all kinds of messed up. Anymore now, I get my last two hours of rest in the afternoon, taking a cat nap around 12, after I've been awake five or six hours. Here I am at 5.30, when the rest of my unemployed gits for peers are fitfully sleeping off last night's debauchery & I'm wide awake, purposefully sober, restless, blithley blogging & considering sitting down to a good book & a spot of tea. I'm a little TOed that my living room is currently inhabited by two said peers, so I'm obliged to stay in my bedroom/closet, which is near anathema to me. They're lucky they have jobs & such, a good reason to be asleep, or I'd be there in a heartbeat, writing obscenities on their foreheads & in general making them wish they hadn't slept in the freaking living room.

Had a whack dream last night. Not going into detail, suffice it to say that I was thrity something & contemplating visiting a doctor, a specialist, one of those MDs that focus on aspects of your life that while not life-threatening may become cause for concern, like you snore too loudly & it is waking your domestic life partner, so you go see this specialized doc, & while snoring is completely natural in your case it is just a bit too extreme, or at least it is felt that way, by you or your DLP, doesn't much matter in those types of situations now does it, & so you go see this doctor about your snoring but it wasn't snoring in my dream, oh no. I could only wish it were snoring.
Most disturbing characteristic about the dream is that to my thirty year old mind going to see a doctor about something completely non-life-threatening seemed the most commonplace & expected thing to do & then here I am in actuality, a twenty-three year old with certain medical ailments that could probably use some attention, have been begging for just a little attention for some time now, & I have a hospital pact with my friends. A hospital pact is a simple concord: never under any circumstances, unless it is one of those life & death situations which we hope to only hear about second hand & never have to experience, are we to take one another to the hospital. Full stop. End of story. Unless I've consumed two gallons of alcohol, have hemorrhaged three & a half pints of blood & have bitten off my own tongue during a seizure that's making good on beating the record of longest seizure ever seized, then & only then are you to take me to the hospital, anything less & you won't be my friend anymore & I'll have no qualms over writing obscenities on your forehead while you sleep.