Yesterday, perhaps because I was already so anxious that I was having to remind myself to breathe, I decided to call a doctor's office that was recommended to me by a friend. The friend went to this doctor who is young and she said that he listened, he asked her about her gut feelings, she liked him. Now, it's no secret that I've been dissatisfied with my own practitioner for awhile so I sent a form from the internet in to ask for an appointment to meet with the doctor. Somehow, that seemed easier than calling although I knew I was going to have to talk to someone on the phone eventually.
While this was going on, I googled "intense phobia of doctors" and discovered that there is an actual name for what I have which is Latrophobia.
"Latrophobia is defined as the morbid and irrational fear of doctors or hospitals. Again, this does not refer to those who simply do not like these places, but rather those who are deathly afraid of them. Furthermore, people with Latrophobia fear doctors and hospitals, but also anything associated with them."
Being a person who actually takes routes which allow me to avoid driving by the hospital, I feel I probably qualify for that one.
So. Anyway, I had a message from the office when I got back from town asking me to call for an appointment, that the doctor was indeed taking new patients. To call before 5:00 p.m.
Already redlining in the anxiety department, I called and got a recording that they were busy talking to other patients and to leave my name and number and they would call back as quickly as possible.
This was around quarter to four.
I waited around the house for awhile even though I had things to do outside and needed to take the trash and finally said fuck it and went and did what I needed to do and no one called back while I was outside. I hate to give people my cell number as an actual calling number because I don't get reception in the house and it all just gets too confusing because they do call it while I'm in the house and then I have to go outside to take the call or ask if I can call them back from my landline and, and, and...
So. This morning. 8:00, I'm still in bed and the phone rings and of course, it was the office calling me back.
The woman who made the call apologized for waking me up but said that I'd been the last call of their day yesterday so I was the first to be called this morning.
Seriously? It took longer than an hour and forty-five minutes to make a phone call?
From the office?
Then the woman kept calling me "sweetheart."
It's eight a.m., I am barely awake, I am 62 years old and I am being called "sweetheart" by a complete stranger. I told the woman I thought that this was inappropriate and I did not want to be called "sweetheart" by her.
"Oh," she said and then she proceeded to call me that several more times.
Once, when she did it, I simply went silent. And she didn't get it. She did not get it.
I should have just said forget it right then, but did not and have actually set up an appointment for the end of November. She asked for my insurance information, of course, and date of birth. After I gave her that, she seemed to think that not only would it be okay to call me sweetheart, but to assume that I was not only elderly but also no doubt confused and demented and probably couldn't find my way to their office without help.
"Just call us if you can't find us!" she said.
So now I was pissed. And then, when we went to end the conversation she told me to "have a blessed day!" in that chirpy, fucking Christian way that pisses me off so much that I can't even stand it.
Yeah. I doubt I'll be going to that appointment. I mean, the doctor may be great but his receptionist and I are not a good match.
I don't know.
God, I need a doctor I feel comfortable with.
Is there even such a thing?
I doubt it.
But I've taken my walk and now I'm waiting on the appliance repairman to come and check out my washer. My husband just called and made me cry by asking if he could take me to Apalachicola this weekend. I SO want to go, to get away, to be with him but I've been afraid to even talk about it, knowing that this is hunting season and he is eager to be up in Georgia at the camp as much as possible, getting things ready. I DON'T want to make him feel guilty about doing something he loves so much. We are getting older and who knows how long we'll be able to do the things we love, especially those things requiring physical exertion? But I do start feeling a bit low on the totem pole of priorities this time of year and so, when he asked if I'd like to go and spend the weekend with him, I did cry a little.
"Yes, yes," I kept saying. "So very much. Thank you."
And I am looking forward to that with great anticipation. To get away, to go away, to just be with him with none of our chores or duties or obligations.
So. There you go. That's me today, being pissed (which is a great antidote to anxiety, let me just say) and being grateful.
Now. Let's see what Repairman Guy says. He answers his own phone and I have a strong feeling he's the only employee of his own company and I can work with that. I told Lily yesterday that he sounded sort of grumpy when I talked to him because he was on a repair and had to walk out to his truck to get his schedule and she said, "Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe he's so good that he can afford to be grumpy."
And he didn't tell me to have a blessed day so he's winning at phone skills.
There you go. The tea olive is blooming and the air is perfumed and the squirrels are fussing from the trees and the leaves sound rusty in the breeze and I'm going to go clean out the hen house.