I crossed two things off my 52 in 52 list yesterday. One of them was fun and one not so much, which is a good way to do things really.
Number three on the list was "Have a check up". My attitude towards doctors has de-generated to barely concealed loathing and near-phobia in recent years - not without reason, I hasten to add. I won't bore you with my vast collection of, incompetent, disrespectful, arrogant and/or bullying doctor stories. I generally save those for the hapless people who unwittingly broach medical subjects in my presence. They quickly realise their terrible mistake, but by then it's too late.
I'll try to control my emotions as I tell you that the last time I consulted a doctor was at a public hospital pre-natal check up when I was pregnant with Wawa (who was two in October). That visit triggered some unpleasant flashbacks to the horrible shitfest that was Ni's birth eight years earlier and that very day, I went home and found my beautiful doula who took me in hand and found midwives for me at rather late notice and worked very hard to help me prepare for Wawa's blessed homebirth.
My last pap smear was in 2007. You can read about it here. Yay! Isn't blogging awesome? Finally, I told myself that my family need me and I absolutely must take better responsibility for my health. Then I told myself to shut the hell up and stop being such an annoying prat. Then I told myself that I'm not being a prat, you are, so you shut up! That went on for a while, but eventually, I looked up a doctor I'd seen before who I didn't like, but didn't hate and got Doot to ring up and make an appointment.
Shockingly, the doctor was running well behind when I arrived for my appointment. They asked me to come back in 40 minutes. Then I waited for another fifteen. She ultimately explained her tardiness by saying that she tended to attract "a certain type of clientele". I wasn't sure what that meant, but I laughed nervously then pulled out my annotated list of things I needed to discuss. In spite of the fact that I had booked a double appointment, the doctor seemed to visibly slump and mentioned that she would probably have to work through lunch today. Um... Sorry?
During our allotted time, I had a few things checked that she explained slowly and using small words were probably not cancer. She repeatedly referred to my gluten and dairy free lifestyle as "a very limited diet". I asked what tests I could do to find out what foods or food chemicals I'm still reacting to, but when I explained firmly that I would not eat gluten for the sake of "proper testing" since it makes me sick and puts me into a state of overwhelming anxiety that makes my life utterly intolerable, she shook her head and referred me to a gastroenterologist. I'm not sure that's really what I need, but I asked her to order some blood work, so I'll see what insight into my "very limited diet" that might offer first.
The fun thing will have to wait, since it's ridiculously late and I'm having problems with the photos I'm trying to upload and laptops are far too easy to throw at a wall when your frayed temper finally snaps.