Why would I even want a doctor? I don’t get sick.
Not unless you count being hit by a car and getting cancer. And I don’t need a regular doctor to treat emergencies. That is the work of specialists and surgeons.
But, I want someone to go to if I ever need a referral.
So, I tried a new doc.
I was nervous. I always am when I go to visit a doctor.
I have hated doctors ever since I was little. They always want my blood and they do things that hurt.
When I was a child, the horrid nurse would cut my fingertip with a razor blade and then squeeze blood out of it. Nobody ever told me why. The medical profession apparently has the right to hurt people without giving reasons.
And doctors have gloom-and-doomed me all my life. Each one picks a new topic that they think will kill or maim me. And then they get all bossy and mean telling me what I need to do to prevent this upcoming gloomy doom.
I was hit by a car while riding my bike when I was 9. My hips were knocked out of alignment. For the next 9 years, my mother took me twice a year to a horrible man who said I had scoliosis and that I was going to grow up to be an ugly cripple if I didn’t let him fuse my spine and put a rod in my back. I refused. But I had to listen to his horror stories twice a year. Plus he took a bunch of x-rays every year – he took two each in every position “in case one didn’t come out.” I'm blaming my cancer on his x-rays.
When I was 34, somebody told me about a chiropractor who treated scoliosis. I went to him. He took one look at me and said, “You don’t have scoliosis. Your hips are out of alignment.” He then adjusted my hips. Poof! Amazing! My hips were level. I was more comfortable. I’d been out-of-alignment for 25 years. Docs don't talk to chiropractors. They'd rather gloom-and-doom.
Then there was the doctor who delivered my first child. He let me go through the entire labor without drugs even though I pleaded for them. But, for the delivery, he gave me a spinal and an episiotomy and dragged my daughter out with forceps. He claimed there was something wrong with my spine and I could never have a baby normally.
Two years later, I had my second child at home after a 1 hour labor. My husband delivered her without problems. I wrote the doc who had delivered my firstborn to give him the good news. He wrote back an angry letter that my baby could have had problems and I shouldn't have had her at home. With one gloom-and-doom dismissed, he had to invent a new one.
When I wanted to get my tubes cut, the first doctor I went to insisted on a bunch of blood work. He discovered that I have Gilbert’s Syndrome. Suddenly he wanted to biopsy my liver and spleen and gall bladder and run a bunch of other tests. He was sure I was in imminent danger of major problems.
I found a different doctor to do my tubal ligation.
That doctor freaked out because during the surgery, he saw that my intestines have thin walls. He’d never seen anything like it. He didn’t know why I was alive. You’d think he’d just done an alien autopsy. Fortunately, he didn’t have any treatments in mind.
The story goes on and on like this. Doctor after doctor. Gloom-and-Doom story after gloom-and-doom story.
This new doctor was no exception. I came in for a general physical. He measured my blood pressure. It was high. 148 / 75. My heart rate was 90 bpm. I was stressed out. Wondering what horror story this one was going to give me. Other doctors had seen this before. They call it White Coat Syndrome. Long ago, I bought a blood pressure cuff. At home, my blood pressure is in the 1-teens over 70 something and my heart rate is in the low 70's.
The doc was polite to me in his office. He didn’t doom-and-gloom me right there.
A few days later, I received an email from WebMD telling me that New Doc had recorded the purpose of my visit as High Blood Pressure.
I got out my cuff. I took a photo of the readout. 114 / 79. I emailed it to him and asked him to please correct the WebMD record to show the real reason I had gone to his office. He refused.
Then he told me I need to get more exercise and eat a better diet. We had discussed my exercise during the visit – how I get between 3 and 4 hours of exercise per day. We did not discuss my diet.
He’s a goner. He gloom-and-doomed me. He lied about me. And he gave me an unfounded order for lifestyle change.
Next year, I’ll try again. Maybe.