Thursday, July 20, 2006

What's worse then a physical? Not much.

Yesterday I went to my pediatrician for a pre-surgery review and some shots. Once again, I came out feeling quite violated. This happens every time I go in to see that woman. She's a nice lady, and probably a good doctor. But I still don't like what she does, and never will. Trips to the doctor, when you are healthy, are one of the worst things you can put yourself through. This is why I hate going:
  • The Waiting Room: The only things I like about this part are the tank of tropical fish in the middle of the room, and the occasional magazine of interest lying around. But I could do without the snot-nosed, sickly kids running around like they aren't sick, and the awkwardness of filling out that sheet they give with questions like, "Are you sexually active at the moment?" or "When was your last period?"

  • The Nurse before the Doctor: Fortunately, these guys get easier to deal with every time you come in. They are so predictable. All they want is your height, weight, temperture, and blood pressure. It's the same questions every time too. No, I'm not taking, or allergic to any medications, thanks. The main problem I have with these guys is that they tell me what I already know, and they get paid for it! "OK. Looks like you're six foot seven, and weigh three hundred pounds." Gee, guess who could have told you that? Maybe the person you're torturing.

  • The Pre-Physical: Not only do you have to answer those stupid questions on the sheet, you get to discuss them with the doctor herself! But again, it's a predictable routine. Yes, I wear my seat belt. No, I'm not feeling sick or ill. No, I'm not sexually active at the moment. No, I don't plan on being soon. Yes, I'm sure. See? Piece of cake. The hardest part is not being sarcastic with your answers. I was very tempted to give her all the wrong answers, just to mess with her mind. Good thing I didn't, or I'd have been there a lot longer. But then...

  • The Physical: There aren't many things in this world that make me uncomfortable by just thinking about them, but this is one of them. Yesterday's episode was no exception. Always a scarring moment, always. I really could have told her that nothing was wrong with me. She didn't need to look. Or feel. Ok, we're done.

  • Urinating in a cup: This part can't be anything but awkward either. The worst is when you don't have to go, and they make you drink water and wait. As I sat in the bathroom, I was extremely tempted to just take the cup, dunk it into the toilet, and then put it in that little cubby hole and wait for a response. I wonder what they would have done. Would they have been mad? What do you say to that? "Nice try. Now go pee for real this time." I don't know. But it would have lightened my very dark mood. Perhaps next time I shall bring some yellow food coloring with me and give it a shot. Oh, I almost forgot. Afterwards, the nurse told me that my urine looked fine, but that it was very concentrated and I need to drink more water. Again, something I could have told her. Can you see how all of this really isn't necessary?

  • Shots: Can you believe these people? After having the nerve to do what they did, they go and stick me. Usually shots and blood drawing doesn't bother me. Usually it doesn't hurt. Usually I can't even feel it. Yesterday was an exception for some reason. The three shots didn't hurt much, but I felt them, and my arms were sore for the rest of the night. Thanks a lot.


The appointment ended with a discussion between my mom and the doctor about my acne problems. It was as if I wasn't even there. Yes, I have zits, thank you. Thanks for noticing. Geez. No wonder I walked out to the car completely cheesed off.

7 comments:

Joslynn said...

Oh my dearest most darling Doyle!
How I empathize with you!!! We all know how much I hate doctor's visits... but luckily I have been able to bypass most of the physical examinations because my doctor is a man.
And don't feel bad about being sensitive to shots. Yesterday Koseli went in to have her blood drawn, passed out, and had a seizure. You are one of the lucky ones blessed with very little squeamishness.
I wish you the best of luck on your surgery. While you are incarcerated wearing headgear you know that I shall be a frequent visitor.

Abby Norman said...

well, well, well. I'm glad to see I'm not missing out on much. My mama hasn't taken me to the doctor for about...(counting on fingers) THIRTEEN YEARS. I hope I'm okay...but yes, they do sound like they tell you what you already know, so...
My only concern is that I haven't gotten my shots that I should've got in like, seventh grade...All well...I'll probably die of skin cancer anyway. BUT the insult is this: She refuses to take me to the doctor, but she sets up appointments with the dermatoligist (however you spell that). So it's like, "I don't care if you're updated with your shots or not, but we really need to do something about your acne." Thanks, mom.

Joslynn said...

Aren't mothers the most horrible, wonderful creatures ever to walk this Earth?

Abby Norman said...

Yes, sometimes mothers can seem that way....especially when you're staining a chicken coop, and your mom says, "change your shirt if you don't want that one stained!" Of course I thought, "pshhh....I'm not clumsy!" Well, the paint brush proved me wrong! It likes to flick stuff at me and my face! Dangnabbit! Mom's almost always right!

Brittany said...

I'm not aware of any head gear being involved, except maybe an icepack that goes around my head.

Natalie, are you guys getting chickens soon?

Joslynn said...

Well darn it. I just kind of liked the picture of you being bed-ridden with a whole bunch of medal encircling your mouth. Uh-oh, I'm sounding morbid again...
My mother is always right too Nat.
I hate it.

Melissa said...

My mom also took me to the dermatologist--in elementary school to have some warts frozen off my hand with LIQUID NITROGEN. It was like a torture scene out of a bad sci-fi movie. Worst part is: it didn't work. But they ended up going away on their own a few years later. That's the way it goes I guess.