I am pleased to tell you, my doctor visits for the 2019 calendar year are now complete.
- Optometrist, check (my contact prescription, now a -11, allows for not quite 20/20 vision and with my contacts in, I can’t read anything within arm’s length without my reading glasses).
- Dentist, check (gold star…even my gums are healthy).
- Dermatologist, check and check (the first visit required a biopsy, the second involved additional scraping and cauterizing…sounds impressive, but only necessitated a regular sized band-aid).
- Family physician, check (we’ll get to this shortly).
- Gastroenterologist…check (because yay me…I had my first colonoscopy).
Kind of a big deal, as I
do not like dread going to the doctor. Doesn’t matter my reason for going. Doesn’t matter if I like the doctor.
If I were feeling especially creative, I’d write a Dr. Seuss style book about it. (Think Green Eggs and Ham.)
At any rate, my yearly checkup was way back in July. July 31st if my Google calendar serves me correct.
Due to my ‘on time is late’ mentality, I arrived a solid 15 minutes before my scheduled appointment even though I missed my exit and had to backtrack through road construction.
I filled all necessary forms out ahead of time, so I brought a book along to distract me while I waited. This greatly impressed the nice lady who sat next to me in the waiting room (so much so, I was privy to her thoughts about society going to hell because everybody has their faces in their darn phones).
All of this was said with the sweetest southern drawl.
As I waited, I happened to notice a middle aged man wearing a Packer’s jersey standing at the reception desk. A fellow Packer fan! As I was trying to come up with something clever to say to him, I noticed another man standing a few feet behind the Packer man, observing him closely.
And that man was carrying a gun.
I quickly lost the urge to make nice nice with the Packer man.
I stuck my nose back in my book, and reread the same paragraph numerous times before my name was finally called.
Miss Karen. (It’s a southern thing.)
A medical assistant with a warm smile greeted me. He told me ‘we’ were going to make a quick stop to check my vitals (temperature, blood pressure, pulse, height, and weight) before proceeding to the exam room.
Now my dislike of scales is even greater than my dislike of doctors. Haven’t willingly stepped on one in years. (A scale. Not a doctor.)
So there I was, sitting in the chair, staring at the scale, trying really hard to think about white fluffy clouds, as the blood pressure cuff tightened around my arm.
I think we all know who’s to blame for that reading.
Fortunately, the nice man offered to take it again manually once we got to the exam room. (Which he did. And it was normal. Karen normal. I run a bit low.)
Well, I survived the scale. But barely. (I kept my eyes closed and announced I had no desire to know what it said.)
Now for the good part.
Remember my struggle to find a new doctor when we moved last year? (If you don’t, and you are dying of curiosity, you can read about it here.)
Well, I hate to brag, but I am an awesome doctor picker outer.
She was everything I needed her to be. She asked lots of questions and took time to get to know me as a person; I felt listened to and understood.
One of my concerns was whether or not I was getting the proper nutrients from a vegan diet. I felt great (52 year old great…probably not 25 year old great), but protein, calcium, iron, and vitamin D deficiencies are concerns.
So my doctor arranged for blood work, and I made an appointment for the next day. (Didn’t even miss the exit this time. I’m a pretty quick learner that way.)
The phlebotomist (such a fancy sounding title) was amazing. She was a bundle of energy…I had all I could do to keep up with her as she walked me back to the lab. Before I knew it, I had a tourniquet wrapped around my arm, a needle in my vein, and she was removing the final tube of blood.
I complimented her on her blood drawing ability and she replied it wasn’t her (which scared me a bit, as there wasn’t anyone else in the room).
She looked up and said, “All glory to God. He’s right here with me.”
A week or so later, I received my test results. Three pages worth.
Everything was in range.
And I’m well aware that everything could change tomorrow, so I guess I had best get ready to do the whole doctoring thing again next year.