So I went to the GYN today for my annual checkup. I'm in a great mood today -- I'm having a good hair day, a good makeup day, a good ass day -- plus it's cool enough outside that I got to wear my snazzy new jacket. Oh and the new shirt I bought the other day -- too big. Time to go down another size. Uhuh. So I get in and the nurse is quite nice -- we chatted. I hopped on the scale to do my weight and before she even moved a thing she said -- wow, you must have lost a lot of weight! Thank you thank you, yes I have.
So fast forward to me waiting on the doctor (still clothed). He walks in already asking me questions about pregnancy, medications, blah blah blah. After about 4 questions I finally get to sneak in a "You're not Dr. ______." What is his reply? "No, I'm not" and then more questions. Never does the man introduce himself or explain where my regular doctor is. I also tried to pose a few questions and he wouldn't have any of it -- apparently he is too busy to answer his patients qustions. So then he leaves to let me strip and lay spread eagle naked on a table.
He made me wait entirely too long before his return, BTW. So now it's check-up time. The epitome of discomfort. Seriously, being completely naked, laying on a table and staring at hospital lights while a old unattractive man who you've deemed an asshole sticks a cold metal instrument into your vagina and starts mashing your tummy is -- believe it or not -- incredibly uncomfortable, degrading and slightly violating. And get this:
At this moment -- the exact wrong time -- the worst time, actually -- the man tells me that I need to lose weight. He didn't do this while I was clothed, or even covered up -- he chose the moment where he is shining a light into my probed vagina and I'm spread eagle, utterly naked on a table. The WORST time.
Let's get a few things out of the way before I proceed with this post. First, when my first psychologist told me to lose weight I ended up locking myself in a room for 3 days and crying. Second, I am not one of those idiots who normally gets mad when their doctor mentions their weight. He's your doctor -- his job is to keep you healthy. If your weight is unhealthy, it's his JOB to mention it. That said...
Um. Hello. First, DID YOU LOOK AT MY CHART? How the fuck can this asshole tell me to lose weight when the first column of the first page of my chart tracks my weight which has quite OBVIOUSLY fallen 70 pounds since the beginning of the year. Hey, next time try looking at my chart before seeing me. And jesus christ, can you pick a WORSE time during the appointment to mention that? Seriously, is there ever going to be a WORSE time for a doctor to tell you that? If you have any suggestions -- I'm all ears.
So we finish up, I get dressed and I'm leaving. But no -- I'm not just leaving it at that. I'm not the old me that takes something so inappropriately wrong laying down and goes home and cries about it -- fuck that. So I walk up to where I check out where the receptionist and all the student/residents/interns/nurses/whatever hang out. (BTW, I absolutely love that receptionist). And I ask her where Dr _____ is. She explains why hes not there and I ask her if he will see me next time. I then ask her is this guy ever looks at his patients charts. She informs me that yes -- they are VERY thorough about looking over a patients chart before they see them.
I then proceed to tell them all of the absolute worst time to tell a patient they need to lose weight. By the end of my rendition -- at least two of the resident/student/interns guys are dying laughing (one of them was damn cute too, I should have stopped ranting long enough to get his #). And then I tell them that FURTHERMORE -- I've lost 70 pounds since April. I don't think it's realistically possible for him to expect me to lose faster than that. So maybe next time he should read my chart before he says hello (And I swear that when I finished that sentence a resident spit coffee out of his mouth -- I don't think many people liked that doctor much more than I did).
I then finished it up with a "I don't like him, and I want to redo my patient survey." I swear by the time I walked out of there, every employee of that office was dying laughing.
So I'm proud of myself! Not only did I let it upset me, I took the opportunity to stand up for myself and make everyone (including myself) laugh about it. Score one for me.
BTW, at the office today I was 258 -- blue jeans and all. That's a nice change from 325 in April! I feel good today.