What I told my new doctor

doctor talk to a robot
I’m on the left, trying to explain myself…

I had a pretty good appointment with my doctor yesterday. She was actually quite personable, and she really seemed intent on making sure I feel seen, heard, and cared about. I had a couple of instances where I started to get a bit shaky, when talking about all the responsibilities I’ve got on my plate. I hate when that happens. I worry that it makes me look emotionally unstable (cue the meds?) or weak, but it happens. So, I might as well accept it and just deal with it. I did manage to recover pretty well, and finished out the appointment in good shape.

I had originally written up a one-page sheet detailing my primary concerns, but it occurred to me that I was being too detailed, and if she didn’t see something with her own eyes, telling her all about it wasn’t going to work in my favor. I don’t want to be perceived as an attention-seeker or someone who makes up stuff to track, just because. I’ve been there before. I’d prefer not to go back… it’s no fun, dealing with doctors who think you’re just another Munchausener.

I mean, what am I supposed to do, when I’m hypersensitive to things that don’t show up on regular measurements, and can’t be described, because words fail me? It’s happened so much… and it’s so frustrating, to not be able to articulate what the deal is, as well as having to navigate the social interactions where I’m pretty sure (but not certain) that the person in the white coat sitting across from me is skeptically indulging me for psychiatric diagnostic purposes. Ugh.

Well, that didn’t happen. At least, I don’t think it did. How I wish I could just read people. It would simplify things like this considerably. But no… and anxiety commences. My anxiety level, however, did not fly through the roof, as usual. I took care of myself before, during, and after. I made sure I listened to relaxing music as I drove in, and I got there early, so I sat in my warm car and chilled out.

When I was in the waiting for the doctor, I listened to more relaxing, rhythmic music, and I actively relaxed. When they took my blood pressure, it was 96/60, which is about right for me. I tend to have fairly low blood pressure, and usually when I go to the doctor it jumps up to 130/85 or so… not this time, though. So, I know I was doing something right.

And when  I met with the doctor, I had my notepad and my questions and I took notes while she was talking. She didn’t seem to mind, like other doctors have. Other doctors (even the one I really liked) used to give me crap for taking notes and asking them to repeat things. Their whole attitude seemed to be, “Why do you need to take notes? This is simple. You’re smart. Stop pretending you need help.”

The thing I liked, is that she didn’t rush me. She didn’t get an attitude when I took my notes. She just took as much time as I needed, and she didn’t leave until she made sure that I didn’t have any remaining questions. I did have a couple of things I remembered (that I hadn’t written down).

All in all, it was productive.

And I feel a lot better than I did, just 48 hours ago. (And thanks to everyone who supported me yesterday – I really appreciate it!)

So, that’s that. I can take all that concern off my plate – just in time to make room for other concerns. There seems to be no lack of them, these days.

But I suppose that’s the price of being alive – which I’ll happily pay.

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