New Doctor
I went to see a new doctor yesterday. As you may recall, I've been collecting OB/GYNs like my husband collects comic books - only I don't seal the doctors in plastic bags and store them in my basement, tempting though that might be. After seeing my former doctor last year and having him suggest that a) my husband might be unfaithful and give me an STD and b) I might be too dim-witted to understand how human reproduction works, I finally threw in the towel. I faxed him a letter (advising that I was leaving) and the office administrator saw it. She called me and told me that a different doctor from the practice would be happy to see me. So, I waited a year and made an appointment. I can't say that my hopes were terribly high but I figured the new doctor couldn't possibly be as bad as the old one.
I went for a couple of reasons. One is that I was due for the annual stuff. Two is that I wanted to talk about some issues I've been having. They are a little bit TMI so I'll spare you. The visit started out fine. The nurse was super nice and didn't ask me any dumb questions. (In the past, with the old doctor and nurse, the fact that I had four miscarriages and zero deliveries but still have a daughter seemed to cause a "does not compute" moment.) After the nurse left, I sat in the exam room and waited for Dr. C. I could hear two people talking right outside the door. I didn't know if one of them was the doctor because I had not met her and didn't know her voice. They seemed to be talking about patients (in a general sense) and options that can be offered for birth control and such. I heard one of them say, "Well, you know I'm all about profit!" Then two seconds later, that voice walked into the exam room. Or at least I am about 99% sure it was my doctor who'd just been speaking. Honestly, what are people thinking? I wasn't in some sort of sensory deprivation chamber - I was on the other side of a bleeping door. Whatevs, I guess.
Dr. C was pretty nice. She told me about some blood tests she wanted to run. I mentioned that my weight has spiked a bit in recent months even though nothing has really changed with my eating and activity level. I guess I was wondering about hormonal changes since I'm getting to be an old lady. She said I am too young for "the change," which is good news, I guess. I had two physicals over the summer - one that was required by insurance and one that was required for my foot surgery. My bloodwork and such was fine in both cases. However, I don't think they were really looking for hormone-related issues in those exams so that's why I wanted to ask about that. I guess we'll see what the bloodwork shows.
At the end of the visit, I asked again about my weight and she said, "Well, since you're working out three times a week, maybe you should just increase it to five. And then maybe you should just cut your diet down to the absolute minimum." Yeah, and maybe I should just open a vein and call it a day. There are weeks when I do work out five times, but not always. And yeah, I have a sweet tooth that gets the better of me sometimes, but I don't think it could account for the spike. Anyway, I guess there's really no hope of finding a doctor who will truly look at my health history, listen to what I am saying, and give me some sort of direction. For now, I guess I'll just settle for having found a doctor who didn't make me cry and who didn't imply that my husband is a slut. I wish I could make an appointment with Doc Baker in Walnut Grove. He seemed like he would be a good listener. Of course, his medical arsenal was pretty much limited to "Here's some morphine for ya," but still.
I went for a couple of reasons. One is that I was due for the annual stuff. Two is that I wanted to talk about some issues I've been having. They are a little bit TMI so I'll spare you. The visit started out fine. The nurse was super nice and didn't ask me any dumb questions. (In the past, with the old doctor and nurse, the fact that I had four miscarriages and zero deliveries but still have a daughter seemed to cause a "does not compute" moment.) After the nurse left, I sat in the exam room and waited for Dr. C. I could hear two people talking right outside the door. I didn't know if one of them was the doctor because I had not met her and didn't know her voice. They seemed to be talking about patients (in a general sense) and options that can be offered for birth control and such. I heard one of them say, "Well, you know I'm all about profit!" Then two seconds later, that voice walked into the exam room. Or at least I am about 99% sure it was my doctor who'd just been speaking. Honestly, what are people thinking? I wasn't in some sort of sensory deprivation chamber - I was on the other side of a bleeping door. Whatevs, I guess.
Dr. C was pretty nice. She told me about some blood tests she wanted to run. I mentioned that my weight has spiked a bit in recent months even though nothing has really changed with my eating and activity level. I guess I was wondering about hormonal changes since I'm getting to be an old lady. She said I am too young for "the change," which is good news, I guess. I had two physicals over the summer - one that was required by insurance and one that was required for my foot surgery. My bloodwork and such was fine in both cases. However, I don't think they were really looking for hormone-related issues in those exams so that's why I wanted to ask about that. I guess we'll see what the bloodwork shows.
At the end of the visit, I asked again about my weight and she said, "Well, since you're working out three times a week, maybe you should just increase it to five. And then maybe you should just cut your diet down to the absolute minimum." Yeah, and maybe I should just open a vein and call it a day. There are weeks when I do work out five times, but not always. And yeah, I have a sweet tooth that gets the better of me sometimes, but I don't think it could account for the spike. Anyway, I guess there's really no hope of finding a doctor who will truly look at my health history, listen to what I am saying, and give me some sort of direction. For now, I guess I'll just settle for having found a doctor who didn't make me cry and who didn't imply that my husband is a slut. I wish I could make an appointment with Doc Baker in Walnut Grove. He seemed like he would be a good listener. Of course, his medical arsenal was pretty much limited to "Here's some morphine for ya," but still.
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