Fear and Loathing

All right, it is already starting. The fear and dread that creeps up on me starting the week of a doctor’s appointment and spiking the day before. That day is today. I’ve always hated doctor’s visits of any kind. This was never really too big of a problem, since the only time I went was when I was sooo sick it didn’t matter. Really sick visits almost never happened.

These days are different. I have been to the doctor in the last 4 months more than I have been in my life and it doesn’t get any easier. It’s a wierd cycle of fear and loathing. It’s starts with a subconcious mental countdown worrying about things I can’t control. Blood tests feel like exams I have no way of studying for. Exams I will possibly fail. I have superstitions, like if I dress up with full make-up, then I look healthy, surely he will be hard pressed to find anything wrong with me. Appearances don’t lie, right?

So today starts the dread, awaiting the the oh so short time at the doctor’s. The dread of the waiting room with people and their massive plastic bags of medicine. The people waiting in a wheel chair with huge amounts of gauze wrapped around what’s left of their leg, and the woman with a seeing eye dog. Strangely surreal, I feel I can’t belong here.

Too makes matters even stranger, I actually have a small schoolgirl like crush on the doctor. He’s slightly older, nice looking, unmarried and very witty when he’s not giving me that look. You know, the look that is all business and seems so stern. So now, mixed with the fear, I get giddy nerves where I talk too much and feel like an idiot. I totally unglue. Gone is the self-confident, 30 year old, professional woman I am in every day life. For example, recently I had to go by and just pick something up from the nurse. I quickly hurried through the hallways to the nurses station trying to get in and out as fast as possible. Apparently a little too fast, because when I turned the corner, I slammed into the cute doctor. Totally knocked him and his paperwork into the floor. So mortified, I apologized, scurried dow the hall, and waited impatiently as the nurse took her time in getting what I needed. While waiting for the nurse, the doc. slipped behind me without me noticing, and bumped me from the back. Startled, I accidently elbowed him as I turned around. Again, words can’t describe how red my face became!

So tomorrow, I see him, and have to not only encounter that usual panick, I also have to face the embarrassment of the other day. On a funny note, I doubt he’ll increase my dosage or give me any stern looks, because now he probably considers me dangerous!!

I completely relate. My appointment isn’t until mid-July and I felt a twinge of panic thinking about it as I read your post. I rarely went to the doctor before being diagnosed. I have a hard time trusting them, and don’t like them, and have not had good experiences. And it sucks that I have to go - I mean, gotta have my meds. Maybe I’m just obstinant. But my husband always says, why don’t you ask your doctor about that? And I always think, what’s the point. I feel guilty about how I’m doing all the time and it puts you in this weird unequal relationship where I feel like I’m supposed to be chastized all the time. But feeling like that probably prevents me from getting all that I can, and more importantly, what I need, from my doctors.

I wonder why that is… That is also the kind of feeling that makes me forget all the questions I meant to ask while there. I’ve actually tried to write them down before, but can’t seem to bring them out to ask. Each visit is like a whirlwind, that I can only process once I’m home. Then I’m angry that I didn’t get what I wanted out of it.