Posted by: Ingrid | September 26, 2007

I hate the doctor.

They say whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. And so far, despite the fact that I feel like I’ve been to the doctor more times in the last four months than I ever have in any given year, I’m relieved to know it hasn’t killed me. Though it’s not necessarily made me stronger either. And if I were stronger I would probably attribute it to doing weights consistently and not my all too frequent visits to various MD’s.

In all of this I’m learning that I am so my mother’s daughter. As in, I really don’t like having to take drugs. At all. At least not when it seems like a Band-Aid and not a cure. And it drives me nuts when the doctor tells me to “take X” and “do drastic procedure Y” because then they can eliminate all the physical stuff and tell me that I’m stressed. Like I don’t know that. Like I don’t walk into the office and start listing off that I’ve been married less than a year, a couple moves, mom sick, mom dies, friends busy, friendship base completely changing, husband in school, yada yada yada. WHY CAN’T THEY FOCUS ON THE CAUSE???! Am I dense or am I the only one who doesn’t think that the solution to a really stressful year is to medicate myself and keep going like everything’s fine?

I didn’t realize until I left that the fact that the doctor happened to be using the cancer outpatient wing to see her patients was jarring. There was a woman in the waiting room in her early 30’s with her husband and friend. At least one kid. She was wearing a hat to cover her hair loss and she was beautiful. Really truly glowing and vibrant. I wonder how long that will last. In the waiting room there were cheery “Come to our breast cancer support group” signs and bad religious poetry, none of the tabloids and patenting magazines that comprise the typical literary fare of the doctor’s office. I think all in all I came away unsettled and sad and wondering again how my mom can be dead when she was alive 3 months ago. I don’t understand. It doesn’t make sense.



  1. I know. I feel the same way when Brian wants me to take drugs just because I have a sore throat or something. We didn’t grow up like that. We let our bodies take care of it….I don’t know. It’s weird how different familys handle things.

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