On Wednesday I had a doctor visit. It was a routine, annual physical, nothing serious, nothing I look forward to. But, in my book, it's a MUST DO. I believe in taking care of myself and check ups and mammograms are a part of that for me.
When we moved here, I had no idea how to go about finding a doctor. So, I asked our friendly and helpful insurance representative, who was volunteering all manner of things we should know about as new residents. She tipped me off to the doctor that she uses, so we wrote down the phone number for future use. As it turned out, Cathy's doctor had a full house, but he had an associate with him who could see us. In my estimation, it was a stroke of good luck!
Dr. S. is a well-trained, friendly physician with the same religious convictions that I have. He's a joy to visit once a year, though he'd love a bi-annual 'date', when I protest, he says, "Well, you're a healthy woman in pretty good shape, good chemical workup. I just want to be sure you stay that way." Well, so do I, but at this point, if he doesn't insist on two visits annually, I won't go but once!
Wednesday was my day this year. I reported at the desk a little late, 9:15 instead of nine, thanks to some unforseen traffic problems, but it wasn't a big deal to the lovely ladies who do the paperwork. After a short wait (about 5 minutes) I was called into the office. You all know the drill, blood pressure check, temperature check, weight (UGH) check. Then...off to the other office for the actual physical, the good old yearly female thing, an EKG (routine with this doctor) and a good once-over. Dr. S. and his nurse and I had discussion this time about my 'good genes', talked over our agreeable thoughts about botox and fat removal, (aka 'aging ungracefully) a few silly jokes, and lots of question/answers. At precisely 10:30 a.m., this happy patient paid the bill and walked out the door.
It may not be my favorite way to spend an hour, but I feel that I'm in good hands. It is good to be comfortable (well, as comfortable as possible with your feet in stirrups) with your doctor. It is good to know that he has time to answer questions or concerns, even if they are regarding my husband or my mother, during my own visit. (Suffice it to say that they are true concerns, or I would not bring them up during my visit! Dr. S. doesn't mind, but I would never abuse his willingness to ease my mind.)
When I got into the car, with an appointment card for a January appointment (ok, he won. I will see him twice next year...so I guess I'll be twice as healthy, huh?) I smiled at the thought I had on the drive to his office. I couldn't say it after he asked me to return in six months. What was it I'd thought I'd say? "Bye, Cliff...I'll see you the same time next year!"
