Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Bend Over and Cough

I went to the doctor today; a new one. I fucking hate doctors.
I hate them out loud.

I went ahead and told this doctor, Ross, when he walked in. "Just so you know, I hate doctors, and I'm probably going to challenge everything you tell me." His face was all, "Uh, nice to meet you, too." He took it well, though.

He was very soft spoken. I have mixed reactions to soft spoken people. Depending on the situation, I either want to give them a hug or break dey jaw. With him, I was kind of neutral. He asked me the usual battery of questions about my past, family history, progressively more uncomfortable and personal topics. Hoss then did this thing that a lot of doctors do, which is one of the reasons I hate their faces off. Subtle manipulation.

"Do you smoke?"

(Oh- here it go.)
"[SIIIIIGGGHHHHH] Yes. I know it is bad for me, and I know I should quit. I am working on it."
I smoke about a pack a week, if that. I really am working on it. Stop judging me.

"You're right. I mean, you're at a young enough age that you haven't done MUCH damage yet, so if you stop now, your body can reasonably recover. Some people smoke until they're ninety without apparent consequences but those people are very rare. Most people get EMPHYSEMA and DIE. Most people get NOT ONLY LUNG CANCER but EVERY CONCEIVABLE KIND of CANCER and DIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!! [deep breath and dramatic pause] So, I just think it is important that you consider quitting. Because of the associated risks. For your health. Because you're young. And otherwise healthy. And it would be good for you. To quit. Quit smoking."

I kept spacing out during this never ending speech, but I think I might have been able to wrap my feeble brain around the cleverly disguised message he was so carefully trying to illustrate for me here. He continued to sprinkle little quips about it throughout the duration of our time together. Such as, "Your assignment for next time is to quit smoking. I'll be grading you. HA!"

Then we smoothly transitioned into vaginal health. I love talking about my cho-cha with strange men. It's utterly enchanting. I'm not going to get into the gory details of how miserable the whole conversation was, I'll just skip to the part where I got life changing advice again. Approximately. After we established that I am not currently in a relationship, he asked me a couple of questions about sexual activity, birth control, safe sex, and being tested for STDs. This was my response:

"You know, I think I'm ready to be a mother. I'm really good with kids. Birth control made me fat, and since I don't have a job, I can't really afford it anyway. Besides, I like surprises. I haven't slept with anyone dirty, so I don't need to be tested."

I looked at him with complete sincerity, blinked innocently, and gave myself a second to appreciate his facial expression and wish I had a camera because it was beautiful.

When I was pretty sure his head was going to explode if I didn't say something else, I told him I was kidding.

He asked me in about four different ways if I had ever had an STD. Tricky, tricky. No. Still no. Urgghh. I deserved that for being a smart-ass. Sometimes these things just come out of my mouth on their own.
Then came the pharmaceutical plug. Mr. Hoss basically told me that everyone in the world, especially everyone I am coming in contact with, has HPV (papilloma is one of the most disgusting words I know and every time he said HPV I heard the p-word in my head). BUT there is a vaccine for HPV (seriously, that word makes me gag), called [insert brand name and cheesy smile]. HPV (uhyeulk) can lead to cervical cancer. So, he strongly recommended I get this vaccine before it's TOO LATE. He told me that he just saw a girl just about my age this year, and she tested negative. We'll call her Sally. Sally didn't get the vaccine. Sally came back JUST ONE MONTH later, and Sally had da PAP-ah-LOW-ma. Silly Sally. You don't want to be like Sally, do you?

Wow, was that a parable? Can you write that down for me? The only part of that I am making up is naming her Sally, and pronouncing papilloma all stupid at the end. I swear on a stack of Physician's Desk References.

Let me just reiterate that I hate going to the doctor. Can you blame me?
Slightly frightening fact: This guy is one of the least annoying, nicest doctors I have ever seen.

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