The doctor

It's that time of year where I should probably get my girl parts checked out, and I couldn't be less enthusiastic about going to the doctor. This brings me to one of my number one fears...the doctor.

I didn't used to be afraid of going to the doctor. I actually used to enjoy it. My pediatrician in Virginia used to give me candy and joke around with me. He would always ask me how my "pet squirrel" was doing (I had this stuffed cougar that I brought everywhere with me...I would always indignantly remind him that it was a cougar, not a squirrel. This was a fun game for a six-year-old.) I enjoyed being told that I was such a healthy, pretty, young girl.

Of course, anorexia changed everything. I did not like being reminded of the disconnect between what my mind thought was right and what my body was actually doing. When doctors began to become alarmed at my declining state of health, I got alarmed, too...I didn't want to be sick, but I couldn't stop the eating disorder. Ever since then, I just expect doctors to find something wrong with me. I expect the experience to be a freak-out fest.

Probably my worst doctor experience happened when my psychiatrist recommended I get an EKG because I had lost a lot of weight very quickly (from the flu, actually...but whatever). I had to go to the hospital to do this, and it was pretty scary, but I didn't think anything would actually be wrong with my heart. I was given the results to give to the psy. When I looked at them, things suddenly got serious. At the top of the sheet, it said "abnormal."

At this point, I was desperate to go over to the psy and ask her to interpret the results for me. Her response?


"I'm not an expert. I think you should probably take these to a regular M.D."

So, I'm walking around with a potentially bum heart, and I have to wait even longer to find out what's wrong? I almost lost my mind.

A week later, I see my doctor and she says, rather quickly, "Oh, these look fine."  I was stunned. According to her, this happens all the time with EKGs and it doesn't actually mean there's anything wrong with your heart. I don't remember the specifics, but her attitude was that it just wasn't a big deal and not actually abnormal.

So, um, yeah. I hate going to the doctor.