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What’s up doc?

I went to the Doctors the other day.  No, this isn’t the start of a joke; I really did go to the Doctors.  I’m getting awful headaches around that time of the month and my periods have changed, plus I’ve been feeling generally crappy most of the time.  As a worrier, I of course, diagnosed myself with all sorts of illnesses, which Dr Google pretty much confirmed when I typed in my symptoms.  I spoke with my Dad about it and he assured me I was absolutely fine but he’s no Doctor so I wasn’t convinced.

So I’m sat in the Doctor’s waiting room well past my allotted appointment time, trying to get straight in my head exactly what I want to ask the Doctor.  Have I come about my periods, my constant tiredness, my moles which I’m sure are cancerous?  I can’t go in and ask about all of that can I?  I don’t go to the Doctor’s very often so I feel like I should make the most of my appointment and ask her about everything that has ever bothered me, get my moneys worth if you will. I decide to just mention my monthlies seeing as I’m pretty sure the rest is psychosomatic and I don’t want to come across like a major hypochondriac.

I’m almost having a full on panic attack by the time she calls me in, will she throw me out for being a time waster?  I certainly feel like one.  My anxiety in not helped when I see that I’ve been booked in with the sternest, take no nonsense Doctor in the practise.  I definitely won’t mention my moles, I decide as I follow her into her room.

She sits back in her chair, appraising me and asks what she can help me with.  Nervously I blurt out about the change in my cycle and the headaches I have been experiencing and when she asks for clarification I tell her about my near constant back ache and nausea.  I couldn’t help myself, it just slipped out.  She seeks further clarification and out comes the details of my anxiety; what are you anxious about,?  she dares to ask.  That my daughter will be taken from me or I will die and leave her, I admit feeling embarrassed.  Well that’s completely normal, she tells me.  Just like that I feel a weight has been lifted.  If the Doctor says it’s normal, what have I got to worry about? It’s a common worry, not a premonition of come kind, I can forget about that.  Feeling buoyed I go on, telling her about my every woe and worry, how I’m easily stressed, a worrier, about what I eat and drink, how often I exercise, my daily meditation routine.  Surely I should feel better than I do,?  I ask her.  Is this all in my head?  I question.  I look up and she’s pulled back into her chair like she’s been hit by a gale force wind, her face a picture of confusion.  “You tell me?” is her answer to my question.

It felt good to get it all out.  Now my health worries were all in the hands of the good Doctor.  “That’s a lot of information you’ve just given me,” she tells me.  “Let’s just look at your pill shall we?”  She decides to take me off it to see if the hormones are playing havoc with my system.  Apparently the headache are quire worrying.  I quite like the idea of not pumping hormones into myself for a few months and readily agree.  “So what are you going to give me for birth control?” I ask her.  “You’ll have to use condoms.”  I tell her that my husband doesn’t like condoms.  “Well them tell him to get the snip then,”  is her no nonsense reply.  If my husband quibbles, I’m going to send him to her.

We talk though my stress and she seems happy enough that I have it under control and we agree a plan with regards to monitoring my headaches.  She seems happy that she has dealt with my many issues and as she is bringing the appointment to a close I decide to go for it and ask her, “can you just check these moles for me while I’m here.”  Before she can refuse I have whipped my trousers down pointing to the tiny brown spot on my thigh that is clearly absolutely fine.  God bless her though, she goes through the motions giving that mole, and another two on my neck a thorough check before giving me a clean bill of health.

I skipped out of her office a different person, I felt like I was walking on air.  Somehow, I don’t think the same could be said about her.

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