All Things Woompty

Doctor, doctor, gimme the news

Yesterday I had a doctor's appointment, but for once it wasn't for my wrist. This time I was there to meet my new Everything Doctor, and luckily for me, she's fantastic. It's really amazing to me to have good doctors who actually listen to me when I talk and don't just blame every little thing on my weight. I mean seriously, my coughs do not happen because I'm fat, despite what my old doctor seemed to believe.

Of course, we did talk about my weight (and my sexual history because it was also Time For A Girly Parts Exam). I can't deny that my weight's an issue for me, and since I've managed to gain back everything I lost (and then some) it's time to take some more drastic actions. She was totally behind it (weight management is one of her areas of expertise) and gave me a referral to my healthcare group's weight management people. So before I left, she says that hey, let's go ahead and do an EKG and a whole bunch of blood work because the weight management group is going to want that info.

You'll be happy to know that the EKG showed that my heart beats with a totally normal rhythm and rate. What I was not happy to find out was that she requested to much bloodwork that they had to take SIX vials of blood from me. SIX! Man, I might as well have given blood while I was at it.

The worst part was that she also requested a urinalysis. There is nothing I hate more than peeing in a cup. There is no way in hell for me to pee into a 2 inch wide cup without peeing all over myself in the process. I don't usually wish I was a man because I happen to really like being a woman, but when they want me to pee in a cup all I can do is think "Man, this would be easier if I had a penis."

This experience was even worse than usual, since not only was the cup a teeny tiny one, the bathroom was totally awkward. It had obviously been retrofitted to meet federal ADA guidelines, and it was obvious that they had done the very least necessary. The toliet was crammed into the corner, with the handicapped railing sticking out sort of over the toilet seat. So I crammed myself in and realized that I didn't have room to manuever the cup down into position for the attempt at pee catching. I had to sit sort of sideways on the seat, and sure enough, peed all over my hand.

Have you ever tried to thoroughly wash your hands with a cast on one of them? Nearly impossible, but I somehow managed it because ew, pee covered hand! Ew! So I got that all cleaned up and opened the little cabinet where they have you leave your cup only to discover that it was already pretty full. Apparently, whichever tech was supposed to be collecting the pee cups that day was totally slacking, because they were actually stacked on top of each other. And it's not like it was locked or anything. If someone needed some pee to use to pass a drug test, it would have been really easy for someone to just come on by and steal some.

As icked out as I was, I have to admit that I was kind of proud that my cup was pretty much full, unlike the vast majority of the cups in there. Slackers.

So here's hoping that all the blood work comes back normal, eh? I'd hate to find out I was dying right before Christmas.

Labels: holidailies, life

posted by Melinda @ 6:56 PM