Follow by Email

Monday, July 25, 2011

Chapter 8, or The lady doctor

September 2008:

My husband was the only person I’d ever had sex with (I don’t count the one attempt in high school).  When he left, going on a sex binge seemed the natural thing to do.  I had a lot of wild oats to sow; or I just needed to feel desired.  But I had been married and not on the pill and I had just spent three post-separation months having sex with randoms.  Protected sex, but still, I was freaking out.  I was certain I was pregnant and chock-full of STDs.  So I figured I should make an appointment with the lady doctor.
            I called a couple different places looking for the earliest appointment available and found a place that had an opening in two weeks.  I made the appointment even though the lady doctor was a man.  I’d never been to a male lady doctor before so I was extra freaked out.  He was a tiny Asian man who was very sweet, but talked way too much.  I asked him to take every test possible.  Take all the fluids you need: blood, urine, spit, whatever, just take it all.  He proceeded to explain every single test to me and then he looked over my chart and asked about my medications.
I had taken a low dose of Paxil for a few years, but I had just dumped my therapist and my drugs.  I know it seems like when your husband leaves you the last thing you want to do is dump your therapist.  But, she actually had the nerve to suggest that The Ex left me because I’d gained weight.  What kind of idiot therapist says something like that?  I’d been seeing her for over five years; she knew my weight was my biggest issue.  Even if he had left me because I’d gained weight, what good could possibly come from knowing that?  It wouldn’t change anything.  He wasn’t coming back.  And if that were the reason he left me I wouldn’t want him to come back.  I figured if I knew these things and she didn’t then I didn’t need her anymore.
So when the lady doctor noticed I had been on Paxil he asked if I felt anxiety.  What I wanted to say was, “Yeah, I’m feeling anxious!  I’m here to get tested for STDs and pregnancy!  And you won’t shut up and scrape my damn cervix!”  But instead I said, “I’m feeling some anxiety right now, yes.  I’m getting tested for STDs.”  With the female nurse in the room he finally got down to it.  He was awkward and chatty, explaining everything he was going to do before he did it.  I knew he was trying to make me feel comfortable and prepared (and it was probably required by law) but I was not feeling comfortable, I was freaking out and wanted to get the hell out of there. 
When they had all the fluids they needed they said they would call me with the results on Monday.  It was Thursday.  I called them every day, and on the following Wednesday they had the results.  They were all negative, which sounds bad but is very, very good.

No comments:

Post a Comment