Distraction.
I’ve regularly whined about how much I hate going to the doctor, to the point where even I get so sick of myself that I’m all “get over it, you big puss-bag,” and today is no exception. Normally, I get all fluttery because I want them to do a specific something for me (up my thyroid meds, give me a script for sleeping pills that doesn’t involve the phrase “benedryl,” slip me a jumbo pack ‘o’ Vicodin on the house just because I looked cute), just something.
I get nervous because I’m afraid they won’t do what I want them to do, and then where will I be? (Control issues much? Short answer: yes).
But today is a new game for me: I have no earthly clue what I want them to do for me. I mean, one of my biggest fears (aside from unwittingly being cast in Rock of Love 3) is that a doctor is going to tell me that I am, in fact, nuts, and since I am going in to the doctor today admitting that I might be, well, nuts, I don’t know WHAT to be anxious about.
I’m not overly thrilled that I will be taking with me today to the doctor, a short, balding chubby dude who routinely craps his pants for fun, but since I have very little choice (the dog has resisted my incessant begging for him to babysit), I’m going to pretend that I’m thrilled about having something to do while I wait. Something like try to contain a kid whose favorite game involves slapping me across the face while he blows spit particulates into my hair.
And is it any wonder I’ve gotten depressed?
Maybe it’s a good thing that I’m going into this with no agenda of my own. Afterall, if I have no good expectations of this, it can’t go that awry, right?
(don’t answer that).
Besides, the worst that can happen is that they commit me to the psych ward, and seriously, right about now, that sounds suspiciously like a vacation. A glorious vacation.
Gah.
Wish me luck.
Good luck! Let me know how it goes.
Good luck. I have thus far escaped going to the doctor with any child in tow unless it was for that child. Or that child was 2 weeks or 6 weeks old and was strapped into a car seat.
Aww…crap – he’s 16 months, I’m like 3 months over due for my annual girly business now.
I think no matter what it is…crazy…not crazy…it’s just really hard, all this parenting stuff. Kids are cute but they wear you down. Okay so maybe it’s just me. Should I have asked for meds long ago? Probably!
I hope it all goes well for you and the pooper holds off until after the appointment. There’s nothing worse than containing kids in a doctor’s office – yuck!
Just catching up now. I am so glad you called the doctor and are going. Genetics are not destiny, as you know deep down. Yes, it is a crappy problem to have, but you can get help, especially with all the lovely pills they have out there.
And we’ll be here with you.
Good luck. I tried to deal with PPD on my own for almost 10 months after my daughter was born. It was only when I brought her to a checkup and had a mental breakdown in the doctor’s office when the doctor (family practice and also my pcp) asked me how I was doing. She gave me meds that day and within a week I was feeling like a totally different person. Six months later they are finally weaning me off of the meds and I can honestly say that I’m still feeling pretty decent.
It makes you smart and brave. I fear for the people who refuse to go.
Please, though, if he doesn’t do like you want, go to another doctor, preferrably a REAL mental health practioner, PLEASE. (That damned soap box!)
Hey, Beck. Thinking of you and hoping it went okay today. Fortunately, I’ve never taken one of the miniatures on a doctor’s appointment – I imagine that would suck big.
It isn’t going to be bad. It might get a bit frustrating, trying to figure out what will work best for you, but it will get better. And you have a core group of great people here who can support you, too. Scary, but doable. Definitely.
You are taking the first steps towards feeling better.
I myself, have an appointment with the padded room, er, I mean doctor next week.
Thinking of you…