I’ve recently had to make a couple of trips to the Doctor. Which always terrifies me.
I hate going to the doctors more than going to the dentist. Or doing a talk in front of loads of people. Or hoovering a spider when I’m all on my own.
HATE IT. A lot.
& I have a feeling I’m not going to be the only one. Holla at me if you have Doctor Doom.
I’m the type of person that will struggle on and pretend I’m okay until I’m basically dead because of the dead has spread and got so bad and made me dead.
Calling the doctors for an appointment is a huge ordeal in itself. If I wasn’t already dead by this point, I would die from the fear.
As thankful as I am for the NHS, it’s so difficult getting an appointment within a week. And because I am already dead, I can’t risk waiting a week and chance becoming more dead.
Emergency on the day appointments are a God send. But getting one isn’t easy.
Wait, I mean, it is easy. You just ask for one. But I’m nervous about calling up and asking for one. After staring at the phone for 10 minutes I finally bite the bullet and ask for an appointment. An emergency appointment.
The receptionist down the phone gasps.
‘Is this a medical emergency?’, she says. And then I start to doubt how dead I am. I mean, I’m pretty dead and I think if I waited another 7 days for a normal appointment I would be proper RIP dead. But I’m doubting my dead self and have remind myself to stop being stupid and say YES THIS IS AN EMERGENCY FOR I AM DEAD.
That’s the easy part over, now I have to deal with my brain.
It’s funny how I go between the extremes. Oh wait, did I say funny? I meant distressing.
On one hand, I panic that they’ll be nothing wrong with me and they’ll be mad at me for wasting an appointment. Then I’ll leave feeling like an idiot that is dead but nobody believes me so how will I ever feel better again? Death for days. Months. Years.
Am I the only one one that worries too much about people I don’t know or care about thinking bad things about me? It’s madness, amirite?
Or I panic that they are going to say I am seriously ill and need to get to the hospital ASAP for a brain scan and then they’ll tell me I have 2 days to live.
When I had vertigo, I was so sure this was going to happen. I didn’t know what vertigo was. I thought there was something wrong with my head (which, contrary to popular belief, is perfectly fine). I scheduled some blog posts for when I was rushed to the hospital for a brain scan before I called. I cried when she said there were no appointments. Then she told me about EMERGENCY APPOINTMENTS after I sobbed about not being able to cope. I went to the Doctors and prepared myself for the worst.
Not expecting to leave with just a prescription and be told to rest and cope back in 2 weeks if it’s not better. I kind of felt like there should have been more to it.
It’s enough to make me want to pay for my own private treatment, like at The Christie Clinic to avoid the long waiting lists and get a diagnosis that doesn’t seem rushed.
My most recent experiences were okay, actually. I mean, apart from the fact that I had to go back because my antibiotics didn’t work and my bladder infection turned into a severe kidney infection and I had to take time off work and was told to go to A&E ASAP if it gets any worse.
Yeah, apart from that, the doctor was nice.
I always feel like they are downplaying my illness when I go. Like the time I had an ear infection for a month because they kept telling me there was nothing wrong. It kept spreading from one ear to the other and I was grumpy as fuck for weeks.
There’s a point to this post, I swear.
I think the point is the difference between my nicer Doctor experience and my previous one was me.
I often feel afraid to self-diagnose. Because I’m sure Doctors hear it all the time ‘I read on Google that it’s this’. Oh, the eyes that roll. But I was honest. I went in and said:
OI DOC. I think I have a water infection. I read on the NHS website to give it a few days to clear up and if it doesn’t come see you and hello here I am.
I was really honest about my symptoms, too. Resisting the urge to downplay it.
It seemed to work because it was a quick appointment and I left feeling satisfied, rather than leaving feeling like I wasn’t taken seriously and hadn’t had my health issues dealt with.
Well, satisfied until the whole kidney infection and almost collapsing at work thing lololol.
But yeah. I think I’ve kind of cracked the going to the Doctor. Now that I’m older and have a job I’ve realised that I need to get treated right away. Because there’s no rest for the wicked. And I’m really wicked.
How do you feel about going to the Doctor?