“When I was young, my ambition was to be one of the people
who made a difference in this world.
My hope is to leave the world a little better
for having been there.”
- Jim Henson
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My day was stolen from me.
But it’s okay.
I went to the doctor at 11:45 for my noon appointment. I knew my usual doctor was out of the office on maternity leave, but they had a resident/physician’s assistant helping out in the meantime. And those of you who know are familiar with the fact that I don’t like my doctor anyhow, so whatever.
At 1:00 p.m., I was finally brought back to a waiting room.
At 1:45, the assistant came in. She looked run-down, tired, and five minutes behind. And I can TOTALLY relate to that. She shook my hand.. something my doctor has never, ever done. Even before she stuck her hand in places most of my very good friends will never visit. And she said, “You are so beautiful. I’m sorry, I know that’s inappropriate, but your hair color against your skin.. you’re just beautiful.”
I cried. Because I firmly believe in saving my tears for people who have NO reason to deal with them.
I showed her the lump on my face, and explained my father’s history, and that it could also be swelling from TMJ. She felt around my throat and said, “No, sweetheart, that’s your lymph node. Let’s check the rest of them.”
I, of course, immediately freak out. Lymphoma is not unknown in my family. I start confessing that I’d had a similar issue under my arms about a month ago, but they went away. She said, yep, they were all pretty swollen. Then she asked if I’d been sick.
Yep.
How long?
Since.. god.. since, well.. um.. I got married three months ago, but it was before that..
Her mouth fell open. “The exhaustion alone should’ve stopped you,” she said, shaking her head. “Your white blood cell count is through the roof. Why haven’t you been in here?”
I pointed to my chart. Where it said I had been in there. Twice in the last six months. She shook her head. “Look,” she said, lowering her voice, “you need to go to a new doctor. Your immune system is WAAAAY weak, and you’re going to do yourself in if no one stops you.”
I asked her where she practices, because I really could’ve followed her into hell by this point. But she doesn’t practice yet. I gave her my phone number and told her to call me when she gets set up, because I will be first in line.
So we’re treating it as a severe infection for a week. If nothing improves, more testing. But I was so excited to be heard. I had forgotten how important practicing medicine could be, and what a profound difference a good doctor can make. And how important bedside manner is.
I’m tired today. But better, oddly enough. Part of me wants to go out to a big, fancy, yummy dinner. The other part of me is exhausted, and wants to just dine on whatever I can make in the kitchen. But all of me is happy today.
