I had my annual lady’s exam yesterday.
Joy.
And, I absolutely love my doctor now. She’s a young little thing, who compliments me on my fashion style, and laughs with me about all the getting-older issues. I could totally hang out with her more than once a year (plus she has softer, gentler hands than my previous fifty-something-year-old male doctor … just sayin’).
But, just recently, the office instituted a whole new system, where everything is computerized. No papers. No notes. One wrong click of the mouse and you could be scheduled for a hysterectomy or plagued with an STD. Kinda scary. I think I like the hand-written charts better.
However, the scariest part to me was the detailed information I had to dish out with a stranger yesterday. And, I mean DETAILED … due to the new system.
And, to boot, the nurse I had to spill all this information to was a substitute nurse.
How much information does your doctor really need to know about your (cough) (ahem) activity? Or what year you had your tonsils out when you were a child? And, the questions just got more personal.
I’m not sure how comfortable I am sharing my life story with a stranger. Too weird. But, of course, I did it. Again, weird.
I must say that the worst part of my visit was getting weighed. Even my closest friends don’t know how much I weigh, but that nurse stranger sure does.
The horrifying result was that I need to lose 20 lbs. For real. I needed to lose 15 lbs. last year, but obviously didn’t. Ugh.
I asked the doctor for a pill to speed up my metabolism. No dice.
Will the battle ever end?
I’ll ponder that question as I sample my homemade cupcakes for tomorrow.