Here was my yesterday. Try not to be jealous, y'all.
First, the kid had his 8 year check up. It shouldn't have been any big deal. In fact, it wasn't til the very end. When the MD told him he was getting a flu shot (we do the preservative-free kind, and only because he has asthma so is at increased risk of severe complications). And he promptly lost his everloving mind. No amount of reasoning, empathizing, breathing techniques, cajoling, bribery, or threatening worked. He was insane. Over the tiniest needle known to man. Sweetmother, I wanted to kill him. I finally wrestled him out of his shirt, on top my lap and tried to hold him still. Y'all, kid is strong. Once the nurse finally cleaned his arm off with the alcohol wipe, he calmed his ass down and we did the shot. I was still in the mindset, however, of wanting to kill him. It didn't go away for quite awhile.
It was so much fun.
So then I did some shopping, had solo lunch, and went for my annual GYN appointment. Now, every infertile girl knows how much fun the OBGYN office is on a good day. The "adorable" pregnant bellies. The 6week old infants with their new mamas. It's so. much. fun. Now, add to it that today's mothers appeared to all be about 20yo. And one, who looked to be about 13months pregnant (she said she's due in "9 and a half days" <-- I have no idea what that means either) took one last hit off her cigarette as she walked into the office right in front of me. She later proceeded to complain about "getting this irritating baby out of me, like yesterday". And then I quit listening.
Also, ^^ that was the decent part of the visit.
Because then the nurse made me take a pregnancy test. Even though my chart VERY CLEARLY states I am infertile and have been for like, you know, 10 years. And I told her I've been having a period every 22 days (yes, that's true. And, yes, it sucks. A lot). And then she proceeded to ask me about what kind of birth control I've been using. BCP's? No. Condoms? NO. Pull and pray? FUCK OFF NO. I didn't really say that, I just looked at her and said, "infertility makes birth control unnecessary". She had the audacity to smile at me, like I was lucky to not have to worry about birth control.
And then, it got worse. Oh yes. Yes, it did.
After I got naked and put on the lovely gown, the midwife came in. Now, I should say that I've actually been seeing her for like 10 years. So we're not strangers (though it has been 3yrs since I've been to see her). And, for the most part, my previous experiences have been fairly positive. And then this happened.
She came in and the first thing she said to me is, "so my sister just got a call to come get the kids they're going to adopt in [some country I can't remember]". And then she proceeded to tell me some s'rsly long story about that. She briefly noted that I'd told the nurse I'm tired all the time (s'rsly tired, y'all. All. The. Time) and super irritable (All. The. Time).
And then she quickly moved on to how her 5 (yes, 5. And she birthed them all by her super fertile self) children are doing. In case you're wondering, 3 are active military, one is in college, and the baby is just a lovely middle schooler. The oldest, however, has completely cut them off and they just don't know why. And that's what the conversation revolved around while she was doing the fun part of the physical exam.
And then, once she was done, I thought, "oh, good, now I'll get to talk to her about how crappy I've been feeling and how effing crazy my hormones have been since baby E weaned 3 months ago". But I was wrong. Because this is what happened instead.
She explained that February has the highest rates of postpartum depression (um, not postpartum, here). And that "we're all feeling a little blech" because it's February and the lack of sun and all. And she's sure my vitamin D is low. So I should take the highest dose of vit D I can find at the store. And she'd be happy to prescribe me some antidepressants, if I want. But she thinks if I'd just do 30 minutes of exercise (minimally) every. single. day, then I wouldn't needs those drugs. Because that's what helped her lose the 35lbs over the last couple of years. Which is about the same amount *I* need to lose, she said.
I tried to explain that I think it's my thyroid based on the other symptoms I'm having, but even if it's not, my hormones are whack and it started when E weaned. But she wasn't hearing it. She then told me how I need to take at least one night a week as a date night with hubby. We should pay a sitter. It will make every thing better. Insert me, again, trying to tell her my symptoms (dry skin, lots of hair loss, GI issues, to name a new), but she cut me off. This time telling me about the lovely weekend she has planned with her husband, during which they will not talk about their oldest son, because it makes her cry.
And then she started to tear up.
And then I just gave up. Took my lab slip to have my Vit D and (thankfully) thyroid checked and left.
And I will never go back. Because wtf. I mean, seriously, wtf?
Today's Lesson: One medical appointment a day is probably enough. Also, when you're providing a service to someone else, check your own shit at the door and do not lay it on them.
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