Why I'm a terrible patient...: Part 1

I used to be a pretty tough chick when it came to getting sick.  I hated (and still hate) going to the doctor, so whether it was a sprain or strep throat, anything that didn't require an ER visit, I just pretty much toughed out and got over.

But when I got to college, the strep throats got more frequent.  Then I got a really nasty case of tonsilitis, with my tonsils swollen so tightly I could hardly breathe, much less eat.  I subsisted on protein shakes and antibiotics, and even managed in my misery to accompany my mom to see a show of "Cats" a few hours away from home.  (I'd gotten her the tickets months earlier for Christmas.)

Eventually, not being able to swallow without agonizing pain wore me down, and I went to a real doctor.  (I'd been visiting the Student Health Center, who blood-tested me for mono and pregnancy eight times, those being the only two illnesses college girls get.)  The GP I saw took a quick look at my throat, vomited in her mouth a little, and sent me to a specialist.  The specialist asked about my symptoms, took a look, and gave me a diagnosis.

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My doctor has a "Napoleon Dynamite" poster in his office.

Some people freak out when their favorite hairstylist announces she's retiring or moving.  Other people have a certain mechanic they've gone to with every car over the last three decades, and they just don't trust anyone else to take care of them.

I have a doctor I saw at various times throughout my pregnancy, who was there while I was in labor, and who performed my three subsequent surgeries.

And he's retiring in July.

Well, "retiring" from private practice.  He and his wife are actually going on a two-year appointment to provide medical care to suffering people in Africa.

Leaving me here without a specialist/surgeon I trust.  Those selfish jerks.

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