To the Doctor Again!

And so today, I had another doctor's appointment!  I hadn't expected to go see the doc again so soon, but his office needed to switch the appointment, then I needed to change it, and blah blah, here we were.  Sad to say, I spent the past week working myself up again into a full-on state of permanent panic.  Just like the last ... what?  four?  five? ... times.  When I first met him, then the next appt after that, then for SURE the last two times when I wasn't doing very well (those stories you already know), and now today too.  I'm a real piece of work, I have to say so myself.  


The great thing is, today went wonderfully, just like last time, JUST LIKE LAST TIME!  My mom -- BLESS HER (and I'll come back to that in a sec) -- accompanied me again, so that was wonderful; she calms me, helps me laugh even when I'm crabby and nervous, helps me find the I-Pass (because we pay tolls here in Illinois... heard we're one of only 3 states or something ... that true?) and everything like that.  She's the best.  But we'll get to her, like I said.


Mentally, I think I can say that I am convinced that this doctor is good.  What a lame word, good!  But what I mean by it in this case is that he is GOOD at what he does (he's an expert!); he's GOOD for me (our personalities don't clash); and he strikes me as a GOOD man.  I mean, I don't think I've ever gotten to know one of my doctors well enough to sit in true judgment of him or her as a human being, like, oh what a wonderful person that doctor is, so true and loyal and wonderful and charitable and whatever!  All I can know is that he seems to be genuinely trying to help me, not rushed when he's talking to me, not pushing newest drugs on me all the time, not rude to me OR to the people I've brought in with me to appointments (have had that one happen before!), and things like that.  I guess these type of things make up that hard-to-pin-down category of "bedside manner" -- although I sure hope never to be bedridden again by a migraine (and I suppose that's another story too).


I'm feeling blessed that this doctor does not even notice the chip on my shoulder that feels so heavy to me, so obvious all the time ... Or maybe it's not that he doesn't notice, but rather that he's seen it before, that practically ALL his patients trudge in burdened by the same, having been through the same before finding him or being "sent" to him from bewildered suburban doctors ... which is how I got there.  I don't know.  And our working relationship is still fairly young, but now it's solid.  And I'm feeling better about that.  I'm thinking that possibly ... probably, even ... next appointment will not make me piss myself for a week before-hand.  Maybe just the night before?  Ha.


Stay tuned for the bit about my mum ...