Rare patient seeks doc.

I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, and I need to prepare myself emotionally.  I haven’t had a GI specialist since that one time in Boston when I had to break up with one.  For those who are new here, I like to compare healthcare to dating.

I have to take an Uber, schedule a time that works for both of us, and pray it’s a good fit.  Much like men prior to the fiancé, GI Specialists don’t really know what to do with me, and much like I was during that time period, I don’t want to be fixed.

I’m strong, I’m vocal, I do things my way and this works for me.  Doctors (and most men) don’t know how to handle this.

And let me just Internet shout:

I DON’T NEED A CURE. I’M NOT LOOKING FOR A CURE, AND I DON’T WANT TO TRY YOUR EXPERIMENTAL DRUG THAT IS GOING TO RUIN MY QUALITY OF LIFE I HAVE WORKED HARD TO ACHIEVE.

So phew.  Now can we just talk like people? I don’t want to pay for a bunch of expensive, invasive tests because YOU’RE curious.  Sure, go ahead and google me, I highly recommend it.  Don’t be afraid to say “I don’t know.”  Nobody does, and sharing vulnerability makes us equal.

Don’t judge my choices, my life, or reprimand me for living the way I choose- for swimming, for traveling, for enjoying a cocktail with brunch. While you’re googling, look up “dignity of risk.” 

Cause guess what? I’m living my life for me. You may be super excited because I’m “rare” and maybe you can write a paper.  One for the books. I write too.  I have letters after my name even.  So stop looking at your watch, and listen.  Learn from me.  Soon we can get the check, and I can get back in my Uber.

Then we’ll decide if we want to keep seeing each other.