Thursday, July 16, 2009

Kick me while I'm down, why don't ya!

Yesterday I had my yearly check-up with the ob/gyn. It was at 10:15 in the morning and don't think that I didn't seriously consider slipping some vodka into my orange juice before I went. I get really nervous at the doctor's office, I don't know why either. I have passed out twice before an annual pap smear. TWICE. I know, I'm ridiculous, but take it or leave it. :) In fact, the second time I passed out, the women's nurse practitioner put me on zoloft. She said, "You got some anxiety issues girl." It's funny though, if you know me, I appear laid back and I even feel laid back in most instances. Ah, well - whatever. So, today I prepared before hand. I spent quality time shaving my legs and painting my toenails and what not and I even wrote down my questions on a piece of paper so I wouldn't forget to ask them. This is good, right? I am five minutes early and did not even sweat during the paper work. I am an adult, I am in control. I am a woman, a mom, a professional, I am in control. He delivered my children, for crying out loud, I am in control. My name is called and I am led back to the blood pressure/weigh in section of the office. BP is good and weight, no too bad (I starved all morning anticipating the weigh in). Then I get back to the room and wait, and wait, and wait. Why do they do that? Could I at least stay in the waiting room where there is a better selection of magazines and everything is not so... white? My doctor comes in to the room and shakes my hand - yeah, I totally start sweating. He had just gotten in from a c-section and was a little frazzled as well. He kept asking me about my birth control plans and yet kept referring to my thyroid medicine. I asked, "Can my thyroid medicine prevent me from getting pregnant?" He laughed, what? Yeah, was he confused or was I already losing it? AHH!! Needless to say, I never got to ask my questions that I spent time printing legibly on paper. Oh, well, maybe after the exam. :) So, he leaves, I strip and put on that ridiculously over-sized gown and wait. And wait a little longer. Do they even have the air conditioning on in this place?!!!!! He comes in with the nurse and the tray, and explains to me how to properly perform a breast exam on my self and then has me lay down and shows me. All is normal. HOWEVER, as he is doing this, he explains that I actually may have some cysts, or maybe it was just that there is very little tissue there so he can feel more. WHAT!!!!! ARE KIDDING ME? Did you just medically say that my boobs are small? Everything is getting dark...and narrow...

He was perfectly professional and didn't move one facial muscle as he is explaining all of this to me in a perfectly medical way. But - HE JUST SAID I HAD SMALL BOOBS! I know alright! You try having A cups to begin with, then have two kids back-to-back and breastfeed for like 7 years (only two, but still) and see how your boobs look. The sweat is pouring and I still have the exam part to go. I closed my eyes and tried to talk about summer vacation plans and the latest lunge track in Body Pump and he says, "Are you okay?" I nervously laugh, "I think I have dust in my eyes, its better to close them." He politely laughs.

Ahh, it was finally over and he left so I could get dressed. Okay, I never passed out and it was over, whew! I got dressed as fast as I could and waited for him to return. Thankfully, he got called to a delivery and I was left with the nurse. I grabbed my purse and ran to the check out. "Did I want to make my appointment in advance for next year?" NOOOOOO!!!!!!!