So for those of you not in the know your dear narrator has been sick. Not like, deathly, or anything exceptionally terrible. Just cruddy and all around weak, puny, and sore. For almost three months now.
I back-burnered it, chalked it up to stress (alot), or the weather (bitter cold and wet), blamed it on moving (four times since my birthday in September).
However the natives(my loving, patient SO) have grown restless with my excuses, packed my butt up and to the doctor.
Seriously not that long ago, doctors would most likely have just no-anesthesia carved chunks off until they found the offending particulate of your anatomy, or you died.
That the provider I saw in particular was most likely working her way up from a Nurse Practitioner in a sliding scale clinic to a full fledged Doctorate, just because she wanted to help people. We didn’t talk about it, or share some sappy lifetime, soap operatic moment.
She was just nice, and genuine, and the kind of person you really could, not only believe, but expect to be doing something like that. She actually listened when I was scared and sharing concerns, as well as laughed at my stupid jokes and called for tests to help put my mind at ease, instead of passing it on to the specialist I’ll have to go to anyway.
That most of the other human beings out there right now, doing the best they can to survive, don’t have the same luxury to do something as simple and necessary as going to the doctor when they are sick. Whether it is because of finances, or distance, not having time because of children or a career, most people my age have difficulty getting medical care, and that’s without even going to some third world country for statistics and a Sarah Mclaughlin break.
That is pathetic. Everyone should have access to adequate health care. Everywhere. End of discussion.
Alas, those facts do nothing to alleviate my anxiety loaded, hyper-aware, fight or flight, fully panic-mode engaged mind. I know that it is totally and wholly irrational, and that logically I know I should just be grateful for access to clean, modern health care.
That won’t stop me from dissolving into tears, shaking, nausea, the whole gamut rolling over me in heady waves perfumed with instinctual, primal pheromones bedecked in lacing thoughts of- JESUSCHRISTITSALIONGETINTHECAR
Making said escape route on the fire safety floor plans posted in the exam room.
In the end, I didn’t crawl out through an air duct searching for terrorists there to ruin what is either the earliest or latest Christmas party ever, but instead sat there and did my damndest not to pass out from holding my breath or anything mortifying like that while the phlebotomist (vampire) drew for vials.
That was last Tuesday, and the results are in, I’m deficit in certain vitamins and minerals, but other than that, fine. I have to take a supplement, and in the meantime I’m going to be mapping out a new meal plan for balancing everything out where it should be for me.
Simple, not the healthiest, but sue me, I’ve been sick.