What a day yesterday was! Drove 124 miles one direction to see a new gynecologist for my annual exam. Why, you ask? Well, this is a small town. The only gyn group includes an old friend I sang with in the high school church choir (male), and I don't know why, but I'm just not comfortable going there. When I lived here before, I went to three different gyn's over the years, and they all fit safely within the parameters of "my mother's doctors," so it was okay.
The first was the one my mother drug me to when I was a teenager and menstruation hit me like the Jericho wall falling down. Years of that monthly experience, complete with fainting from pain and many unmentionable embarrassing moments later, I had an endometrial laparoscopy, but nothing suspicious was found, so I suffered through until I turned 30 and finally surrendered to taking birth control pills to abate the symptoms. Worked like a charm and I wondered why I waited so long.
Anyway, the first fellow was a member of the church we attended, though I didn't really know him in that setting since my crowd was all in high school. He knew I sang, and so, at the beginning of each exam, we would chat for a few minutes about the country music he loved and composed, and then he'd get down to business, so to speak. I must say, neither his folksy chat nor the funny posters on the ceiling made the experience any less appalling.
The second one was an old, grandfatherly GP who was father to one of my favorite junior high school teachers. He was safe, and had an old, grandfatherly bedside manner, and saw me through my mid-twenties until I finished my master's degree and could no longer go to the university health clinic.
The third was our longtime church friend and family practitioner, but since I had no unusual health concerns that required a specialist, his care was more than adequate. And, he took an entire morning to perform a thorough physical every year, with extensive blood work and long discussions about various health issues. I loved it and felt well-cared-for. Those were the early years of my international travel and he was fastidious about making sure I wasn't bringing home any unusual bacteria or infection.
When I moved off to the big city, I just followed my friends to their favorite doctors, first to our GP, and my first female physician, until she retired. And then, finally, to a real gynecologist in a real healthcare clinic for women, but a man. This fellow saw me through an endometrial ablation in 2007, necessitated by a large uteran fibroid and increasingly painful cycles, even with The Pill. The ablation ended my need for pills, and for any feminine products, too.
When it was time to choose a doctor this time around, I just knew I didn't want to be face-to-face, in a manner of speaking, with that old friend from the high school church choir. So, I asked around a bit and discovered that the daughter of one of my favorite women at church is now a gynecologist. It never occurred to me that she might feel the same discomfort in treating me that I had felt at the thought of being treated by Joe Choir. When I walked into her office yesterday afternoon, we exchanged a big hug, and then it dawned on me that she might be feeling a bit awkward. "Are you okay with this?" I asked. And she said, "Are you?" And we made it through with lots of laughter and I left feeling cared-for and heard in a way I haven't for a long, long time. If you need a good gynecologist, try Karen Cole at Jackson Healthcare for Women in Flowood.
Okay, maybe that's WTMI - Way Too Much Information - but a woman doesn't turn 50 without thinking through some of these things. I'll do my best to be discreet. When I told a friend about seeing Karen, she said that she just loved her, had been in Bible study with her years ago, and that a female gyn would probably be much better than a male, but that she would probably stick with her guy to the grave. Convenience, habit, familiarity, all that. And my guy-gyn in KC was great, so I've discovered the gender of the gyn doesn't really matter.
But it got me to thinking...these doctors are people who are with us at our most vulnerable moments. Some are really sensitive to that and some are not. Dr. Karen was great. She's a girl. She gets it. She was perfectly respectful and thoughtful, but she didn't lose the warmth of her humanity. Some try to make it so strictly professional that they become detached and cold. And truthfully, while I want proper decorum and distance, by nature of the examination, I find myself having to clamp down the lid on my emotions and my tongue to keep from spilling every thought and feeling I have when I'm at my annual exam! I don't want a doctor who is trying so hard to keep it professional that I end up feeling like an idiot for feeling! Or for getting flustered while I'm trying to keep my wits about me in that situation.
I mean, really, I have GOT to start making a list before I go in for my annual exam. By the time I've been flattened for the mammogram, impaled for the blood work, humiliated for spillage when filling the little bitty teeny weeny plastic cup, and examined from sunrise to sunset...well, my brain is just mush and I can hardly remember my name, much less whether I have "issues" that need to be discussed.
These days, my issues are so many and varied that it's almost funny to start listing them. I have hot flashes day and night, summer and winter, sinking spells with what I call "hormone surges," (kind of like sugar lows, but not), arthritis in my hands and hips, an increasing number of skin tags all over my body, trouble getting to sleep, and staying asleep, and then waking up, inflammation in my right rotator cuff, plantar fasciitis in both feet, ketatoderma in hands and feet, weight gain, cramps, digestive issues. And that's just my physical ailments. Care to hear my emotional and relational issues? I'll spare you. For Pete's sake! I'm still 74 days from 50!
If I wasn't already feeling old, the AARP decided to make sure I was properly informed by sending me an invitation to join their club just 2 days after the first of the year! It's true...aging is irreversible.
It's late and I need to try to go to bed so that when I wake up after 3 hours, I can still hope to catch another cat nap before I have to get up for real. You know, I really don't mind all this stuff happening, and I know with a bit of weight loss and some regular exercise, both of which I am already doing, I can abate some of these unpleasant symptoms. The reality is that I have always liked getting older. From the time I was a little girl, I wanted to be a teenager, and as a young woman I could hardly wait to be a middle-aged and wise (doesn't that make you laugh?). And while I'm not ready to be old, yet, I certainly don't mind some of the perks that come with having lived this long...
I've had a lot of experiences, good and bad, enough to let me know that I can survive just about anything with God's help and some good friends around. I've learned that people come and go, and while it hurts like the dickens to lose them, in time, God will heal the hurt and help me to open my heart again. I've been blessed to have a rich treasure-store of precious friends in my life, and most of them are still "in the box." I am regularly receiving dividends of their love and good intentions toward me, and vice-versa, I hope.
And I've learned that the annual trek to the gyn will come to pass...
So, I hope Dr. Karen will be around a while to help me through this phase of femine development...disintegration? I'm sure her expertise will be really helpful from time-to-time, but it's her friendship that I really value, and I'm glad that finally, I have found a physician who seems to share the same perspective.
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