By Heather O.
I went to the doctor yesterday. I do that. A lot. Especially lately, but I won’t get into that in the interest of TMI. Let’s just say that I had to see my OB/GYN about some unexplained, mysterious womanly events that sort of freaked me out. I called my HMO for an appointment, only to be told that my previous doctor moved to another facility, and she didn’t have an appointment available that day. The only doctor who could see me that same day was Dr. Ugly Teeth. Hmm…never heard of Dr. Ugly Teeth, but, if he could see me that day, fine.
I’m calling him Dr. Ugly Teeth because I feel bad publically bashing (oops–spoiler!) a medical physician by name. And seriously, he had way ugly teeth. And a gross little mustache. Men, take note. Women hate mustaches. Unless you’re Burt Reynolds. Which most of you are not. Sorry. Deal with it.
Anyway, this man comes into the room and procedes to tell me that my problem is nothing to worry about. Really? Nothing to worry about? Yes, yes, nothing to worry about, and then precedes to explain to me how a woman’s cycle works. Yes, this MAN is explaining it to me. ME! A woman who has been pregnant several times, who has gone through countless ovulation kits, pregnancy tests, hormone testing, and heaven knows what other kind of infertility crap. Clearly, he thinks I am misinformed.
Now, I don’t mind getting explanations from doctors. Actually, usually I like it, because they give me information that helps me make informed decisions about my medical care. But I don’t like being talked down to, and I don’t like a doctor assuming that I don’t know that when a woman isn’t pregnant, the lining of her uterus sloughs off, and that’s considered the first day of her cycle. Thanks, but I learned that in the fifth grade, compliments of the California public school system.
The other thing that drove me nuts is that this man dismissed my concerns about my body. Now, I’ll concede that maybe my problem is nothing to worry about. In fact, I hope he’s right. I’ve got plenty of other things to stress about without thinking about my uterus all the time. Still, I’d rather be reassured than dismissed. Doctors, take note. There is a difference. Men, take note again. Women don’t like to be dismissed.
And what kind of man wants to be OB/GYN in the first place? Dealing with a bunch of hormonal women who are freaking out all the time and trying to regulate a system that makes absolutely no sense and can be thrown off at the slightest provocation? That sounds like fun? Whatever. If it were me, I’d pick something safer. Like podiatry. Women love to have pretty feet.
Anyway, I has highly disappointed with my care yesterday, and thoroughly pissed that I had to pay a $10 copay to have a man with bad teeth and nasty facial hair who barely bothered to look at my face, much less any other part my body, tell me that I’m fine.
Needless to say, I’m not going back to Ugly Teeth again. I have better things to do with my time and my copay. Like go to Starbucks for some serious almond steamer/chocolate cake therapy. Now there’s some medical care I can endorse.
WordPress database error: [Can't open file: 'wp_comments.MYI' (errno: 144)]
SELECT * FROM wp_comments WHERE comment_post_ID = '222' AND comment_approved = '1' ORDER BY comment_date