I never really minded the opthamologist - seeing as how I've been going since I was one and a half years old. But now, I see the eye doctor visit as one that makes me feel stupid ("NO! I CAN'T READ THAT LETTER! Yes, you are correct; I do teach children their letters. But that does not make me able to read the big E!") and poor (do you know how much the contact lens consultation runs?). The dermatologist was NEVER helpful, seeing as how I'm 27 and have been on Accutane twice and I still have acne. The orthopedic surgeon was great because he fixed my knee twice, but I never want to see him again. I never minded the dentist or orthodontist when I was younger...even when I had braces. But now, I see the tooth doctor as someone who will very soon have to saw into my jaw and cut away bone that is my last widsom tooth. Why didn't my previous oral surgeon remove my third wisdom tooth while he was extracting the bottom two? Because he's a longhorn.
Oh calm down UT grads. I kid. I honestly don't know why Doctor didn't remove all three of my wisdom teeth at one time. Furthermore, I don't know why I didn't ask this question back when he removed them. And even furthermore, I don't know why I only have 3 wisdom teeth instead of four. Anyway, I fear the surgery and the verbal barrage that I must floss more...and therefore dislike the oral health visit all together!
But you know which doctor is my least favorite? The girly-visit doctor. That's right people. I know you feel my discomfort here. I'm going to share a little story with you today that is not for the weak. So brace yourself and buckle down to read a personal, yet hopefully funny, story. And because of the absurdity of my experiences today, I'm not the least bit modest with my medical history. So you're gonna pretty much get it all.
I used to have a general practitioner that was a small Asian woman.
Stop the story. Shouldn't all stories start out with a small Asian woman as the main character? Except she's not the main character...I am. And I'm not Asian. Nor relatively small.
Back to the story. Once upon a time, the small Asian lady doctor used to make me wait in her office for just shy of an hour before she'd see me. Then her apathetic physician's assistant would ask all sorts of questions in a completely dry and slightly aggravating way. She did my first PAP smear when I was 18. She was not gentle. It was not pleasant.
Do we need a minute for all of you to let the word PAP resonate? I bet you didn't see that coming. Oh and it's just the tip of the iceburg in today's lovely vignette.
So I left that doctor's practice and, quite frankly, protested all things health realated unless I was dying. I didn't go back for a girly-visit until quite some years later. I asked many a friend who they like to go to for their girly-visit doctor and one name kept coming back to me: Rami. So, I make an appointment with Rami two years ago at this time. And I went to visit Rami. Rami's my general practitioner but he does it all.
I'm not gonna lie. I was not pleased with the idea of Rami and all his glory down in mine. But he was nice. And funny. And a runner. You could pretty much be a serial killer, but if you're also a runner, I'll befriend you. I don't like many personal questions, even from the doctor. I don't like explaining myself and my decisions. But, when one is paying money to have someone evaluate you're overall health, it's not exactly helpful to answer, "I don't know" when he asks, "Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary? Is there anything you'd like to bring to my attention today?" So I shared with Rami as many details as I could muster...told him I protest the girly-doctor visit...told him that he's on an interview process.
Rami brought in the lady physician assistant so he could do the full body exam that we all know and love. And you know what? Rami's good. Until I heard some rustling and then he said the word "biopsy." Then I punched him in the face. After he came to, he asked for another assistant...because YES! LET'S INVITE MORE PEOPLE IN HERE TO SEE THIS! And so now we're all down there and I'm sweating in a panic. Then I heard a lady crack the door and yell, "Yolanda! Can you bring some more ______? We're gonna need more _______." It was a medical term and I didn't know it until Rami explained that it's an anesthetic. Oh good. Open the door up and bring someone else in here...with an anesthetic. My lucky day.
LOOOOONG story shorter...tears...frantic phonecall to Loop from the parking lot...a week of waiting...and finally negative test results and negative follow up appointments later...I was okay. Like a fool, I made another appointment to see him last year. Except that appointment was short and sweet and no mess. Probably because I sweated balls while I was in there and said two words to him the entire visit. It was a self-imposed shun of Rami because I feared the procedure and that he might say the B-word again. And he did not. And I loved Rami again.
So, today was my annual appointment with Rami. I made sure to have a relaxing morning and did all the things I like to do: run, email, watch lots of morning television, ate a good lunch, and drank a lot of water so I can be ready to pee in a cup. I mentally prepared myself. Not to mention the personal grooming that takes place before this doctor's appointment. Because, while I'm sure it's not THAT big of a deal to him, no one wants to be talked about at the water cooler for their lack of ladyscaping. And I was also prepared to discuss with him my acne issues. Which make me want to stick my head inside a cellophane sack and inhale repeatedly. Because ACNE AT 27 FOR NO APPARENT REASON IS ASININE.
I went through the whole kit and kaboodle of questions and answered them with a smile on my face and even made small talk with the physician's assistant. She's about 50 and very maternal. I like her a lot. Except for last year when I saw her at Barnes and Noble THE DAY AFTER she assisted with my PAP smear. She has a second-job and checked me out at the cash register. I don't think she recognized me with my clothes on and my legs not in stirrups. So, I answered PA Barnes & Noble's questions and we chit chatted and I tried not to sweat balls in the office. Then Rami came in and asked if it would be okay if a new physician's assistant came in to ask me some questions, "Because she's a student and it would be so helpful if she could come in and learn and..." And I cut him off with, "Yeah yeah yeah...bring her in." I was not totally on board with this idea but something told me to be a good sport. I instantly thought of me being a student teacher and needing to learn from experience. I've had several students observe my teaching and I let them work with my kids so that they can be proficient teachers one day. And the only way you're gonna learn is if you get in there and get your hands dirty. Pun intended. I let the PA come in to ask me some questions.
Okay. Well PA comes in...and let's just rename her PA Hottie. That's right. The 5'10'' blonde-haired, blue-eyed, fit, impeccable-skinned, kick-ace-diamond-ring-on-her-left-hand-wearing PA Hottie came in and shook my hand.
I wanted to kick her in the shins, but then thought that might be a touch less than graceful. I shook her hand and immediately thought myself to be a squatty and unintelligent pod of a person. Then I noticed she is an Aggie! PRAISE THE LORD - we have common ground! I ask her if she was and what year and she replied, "Yes, '05." very unaffected. Like she didn't even remember. I have to give the girl some credit -and yes, GIRL because she's younger than I am- she was professional and kind and asked all the medical history in a pleasant way. I kind of liked her. I kind of want to look her up on Facebook because I bet she has a site. Because, apparently, I'm the only one who doesn't. Okay so she goes through my ENTIRE family's medical history, and I had to tell her in detail all about my surgeries and procedures. Do you remember me saying earlier that I don't exactly like answering these personal questions? She made me repeat that I'm not on any medications twice. Like she didn't believe me. And then asked AGAIN, "So, no birth control? No vitamins?" I'm sorry...since when is a daily multi-vitamin considered medication? I admitted to the "women's daily multi-vitamin" but nothing else with a pseudo-smile on my face. I finished answering PA Hottie's questions because I know she's just a lil pup learning to medicate folks like me.
Then Rami came in and said that she's gonna do the exam...and then he explained how to get undressed and put on the "gown" with the white paper blanket that has the thickness of a doily to cover my legs. Seriously, do you need to remind me year after year how to do this? I got it. I follow Rami's instructions and PA Hottie and PA Barnes and Noble come back in. PA B&N looks busy getting the instruments ready and PA Hottie goes ahead and feels me up. Surprisingly, I was okay with this. I'd rather them do that than touch my stomach. And then she touched my stomach and I wanted to kick her in the shins for the second time. Especially when she blinded me with this again...
Okay so PA B&N has the stirrups ready to go...I'm mentally prepared...I'm hangin' off the table...and PA B&N reminds...REMINDS...PA Hottie to show me what she's doing. Hottie goes through the whole "This is what's gonna happen..." schpeil and I wanted to say, "Save it!" but just smiled and offered "Okay!" Because what I really want is a student down there in my business weilding a speculum with as much coordination as a one-armed monkey. Y'all she was down there for at least three times the normal amount and I heard her say, "I can't find the cervix."
Didn't see that coming either, did you? Yeah...NEITHER DID I. I wanted to say, "Well...I'm pretty sure it's there...so HUSTLE IT UP!"
There was so much fishing around and breeziness going on. I tried to remind myself that she was just a young lil Ag and relax as I sang the War Hymn quietly to myself. That's a joke...I didn't. I sang Spirit of Aggieland. Anyway, about 8 minutes later (and that's an accurate account, and FAR too long to be doin' that in my opinion), she found my cervix -YIPPEE!- and did what she had to do. Truth be told, it wasn't bad...it was just long and exposed. I mean, she was down there long enough to find my lungs from her angle. The PAs even made some sort of joke of needing a helmet like the ones miners wear...you know, with the light on the front? Yeah...NOT FUNNY RIGHT NOW. Are you done yet? Then I sat up and she reminded me that we weren't finished and had to do the pelvic and hiney-mo exam. She offered me a "Sorry" because she took so long. I don't know if a doctor is ever supposed to say "sorry" but I felt bad for the girl. She probably wants to be a PA for the cardiac unit and here she is - goin' full throttle on the ob-gyn spectrum. It's kind of like your first love though...she'll never forget her first PAP. Okay so FINALLY, I was able to sit up and hurriedly covered myself with the doily. As PAs Hottie and B&N walked out, Hottie said, "Thank you" and I replied with "Sure!" What? WHO AM I? Why say "Sure" or "No problem" or "Thank you" even? I don't quite know the appropriate response but I should not have been thanked.
Rami came back and we discussed the acne issues. He peppered PA Hottie with medical terms and causes to acne and possible options to medicate. She didn't know the answers, by the way. We dicussed my options and I got pretty riled up about it. Because I don't know if you've heard, but I'M A 27-YEAR-OLD WITH ACNE. I told him about the Proactive and how it's actually helping. After a lengthy discussion in which I emphatically shared my opinions on birth control, Accutane, topical treatments, and antibiotics...he gave me an inexpensive prescription antibiotic and a FREE YEAR'S SUPPLY of something that will clear it up. I'm not a fan of what he gave me because it is not being used for it's medical purpose...but Shhhhhh...we'll just ignore it and hope and pray that my acne goes away. I tell you folks, when all else fails, remind the kind physician that you are a poor teacher and he'll give you free stuff. Works every time!
Speculum...PAP...birth control...I don't even care if this blog gets flagged. There is probably some female higher-up at Blogger that firmly believes my story must be shared with the masses. No male knows our pain.
And guess what...praise the Lord for no biopsies. Amen.
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