I was horribly anxious last night. Had a hard time sleeping. Got up and took a fast, fast walk, my feet barely touching the ground with the adrenalin coursing through me. I was literally shaking.
I found the office and considered it to be a good omen that it was right across the parking lot from the oral surgeon who did my implant a few years ago whom I'd come to like so much. I was, of course, grasping at anything.
I went into the office, nervous and so panicky I was disassociating and was given the forms to fill out, as must be done whenever you go to a new doctor. They were pretty basic and one thing I did like very much was that in the section where you indicate gender you were given the options of Male/Female/Other.
Well, I thought. At least there's that.
As we all know, some of my favorite people on earth are "other." Good to know that in this office, they would be included as a matter of course.
The nurse was okay. My blood pressure was somewhat high- no surprise there at all.
And I didn't have to change into a gown but just sat in a chair by the little table and the doctor came in. Now my friend who recommended him said that not only did she like him, but that he was "not bad to look at."
She was right about that.
He's a young guy and he introduced himself and shook my hand and we talked about blood pressure and he said to take it at home a few times a week but not to worry. I told him about my huge fear of all things medical. "Why do you suppose that's happened?" he asked. He seemed to truly want to know.
"I don't know," I told him. "I've tried and tried to pinpoint something that could explain it and I just can't. I know it was true even when I was a little child, so perhaps something happened so far back that I simply can't remember."
"It's possible," he said. "These things run deep."
And then he proceeded to tell me that we'd go slow with all of these things and that he'd never ask me to do anything I didn't want to do. I told him about my anxiety and he wanted to change my anti-depressant to one which works better for that than the one I'm on. He also prescribed anti-anxiety medication which my NP had never wanted to do. I didn't even ask him. He offered it.
"Don't ever feel guilty about asking for medication," he said. "We may disagree but there is no guilt to it and we will discuss things."
I told him that I do exercise and spend a lot of time outdoors. That I take my supplements and try to do what I know I can do for myself.
"You're doing everything right," he said. And he listened to my heart and lungs and said, "Good," and handed me a kleenex when I began to cry and he even kept his hand on my knee for a moment when we were talking in a completely un-weird and human way.
Can you imagine how I felt?
It was the most comfortable I've felt in a doctor's office in a long, long time.
He gave me a lab slip to get bloodwork done but said that it could be any time I wanted. That he'd like to see me in two months to see how the prescriptions were working. So, hopefully, if I could, before that.
I told him I was going to go to Mexico for two weeks and he liked that idea.
"Remember," he said, "You can even call me from there. We have twenty-four/seven answering service."
I think I may have found my doctor. And it's odd- for so many years I've gone to women practitioners, thinking that I would be more comfortable with them but that has not proven to be the case. I'm not sure why this is but it's a fact. That he's young seems a good thing too. Maybe he can be my GP for the rest of my life.
When I left, he shook my hand again and said, "It's been so good meeting you. Thank you for coming to see me."
And when I said, "I'm so glad I did too," I meant it.
And yes, the receptionist called me "sweetie" about ten times but it didn't bother me in the least. I liked her. A lot. I may end up calling her "darlin'."
So. That's my story of today. And I just feel so vastly relieved. That the appointment has come and I went and that it went well. And I keep thinking about how, when he asked me how I'd heard about him, I told him that my friend had recommended him and when I told him her name, he smiled and said, "Yes, she and I are getting to be good friends."
This is a friend who is gay and who has just gone through breast cancer and who is what some might call a "character." And I am also thinking of what her oncologist said about this doctor which was that he is very, very good. And I liked that oncologist.
And on top of everything, his uncle is a surgeon who has done several surgeries for our family over the years and so, I feel a connection there, which may be silly, but it's true. That surgeon has been steadfast and steady and I have always liked him.
"We will take this in small chunks," the doctor said today, and I knew that he had truly listened to me and I did not feel dismissed or condescended to, but respected and acknowledged as a human being.
And that is everything.
I am so very, very grateful.