doctors

Original date 14 March 2011

I hate doctors.

Not the person in particular; it takes a special person to want be a doctor.  To be exposed to strangers and germs and stranger's germs.  To look at scaly feet and swollen glands and hemorroids and still everyday want to do it again.

I hate doctors in general.  The constant appointments.  The tests.  The waiting.  The "your insurance will cover this, right?" look.  The "I'm sorry there's nothing more I can do" look.  The dreaded phone call.

I've been avoiding mine like the plague.  I suffer through bronchitis.  I endure  an upper respiratory infection and a sinus infection.  I ignore the pain in my hip.  I take sleeping pills to sleep.  I take tylenol like candy.

I'm on an emotional roller coaster.  I feel like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde....you never know who you're gonna get.

But, last week, when my sister's 2 year old discovered how to open the front door and HOORAY escape from Mommy's clutches...I'm free as he laughs while running out the door....I sat on the couch and watched with disdain.  I didn't get up to give chase.  I didn't tell my sister that her baby is outside.  I just sat there.  I didn't care.

And that scared me.

So, suck it up, Kimberly....there's no crying in the Marine Corps.  I'm going to the doctor tomorrow.