Have you ever broken down in tears in front of your doctor?
The first time I was thirteen and my orthodontist had kept promising me that he was going to take off my braces.
"They look great! Next time. Keep wearing those rubber bands!"
Three weeks later: "Oh yeah they look great. Definitely next time. Wear the rubber bands in an 'X' across the front of your mouth for three weeks. Then you'll be set to get them off."
Three weeks after that: "Katie they look really good! We're just fine tuning now - hook these three rubber bands on this hook, then this hook, then up here and then back down here. We'll pop 'em off next time!"
I felt like I had constructed Jacob's Ladder across my mouth, and the only person who might have been able to sympathize with me was Hannibal Lecter.
Another three weeks pass.
I walked into the office, totally confident that I was getting my braces off. I wore my rubber bands religiously and knew that this "next time" was the time.
Dr. T: "blah blah blah...next time!"
And I couldn't hold it in any longer. My eyes welled up and the tears started to flow. Then I started to choke on my tears since my head was tilted back in that stupid reclining chair. Smooth. But Dr. T felt sorry for me, looked at my mouth one more time and said, "Well, okay. I guess we can take them off today."
WIN!
The second time I cried in front of the doctor was yesterday. The story is by no means as traumatizing as my braces story, but I cried way harder.
I guess that's what happens when you're a sophisticated working girl!
Having a mild case of Crohn's Disease is interesting because I never really feel "awesome" but when I feel "bad" it's not nearly as bad as it could be. So when my GI told me that I was doing everything right, including all of the yoga, I should have been totally relieved. But I was mostly frustrated since the fact is that I never really feel "awesome".
Then he asked me about moving, and told me that he didn't have anyone to refer me to in Wisconsin, but that I needed to find a GI as soon as possible. He then told me that I need another colonoscopy and a whole slew of other tests when I come home for vacation.
And then in a matter of seconds my mind raced - "Vacation: not for six months. Another colonscopy: no thanks. Moving tomorrow: scary. Being a real person: even scarier. Finding a doctor: when?! That reminds me - I need to print those forms. And my boarding pass. And transfer my prescriptions so I don't run out of medicine. So I can keep taking it. Forever."
And just like when I was thirteen, the tears welled up in my eyes and even though I was doing my best to force them back into my head, they just started rolling down my face, and my voice got uncontrollably squeaky. My doctor looked at me like I was a beetle on its back - totally helpless but a little gross too. But he finally resorted to telling me that I will do great, and gave me a friendly hug, and I pulled myself together enough to pay the co-pay and get to my car.
But now I'm in Wisconsin and very happy. Partly because everyone here is so gosh-darn friendly (the guy at World Market thanked me for using a 15% off coupon). And partly because I get to live in this seriously bitchin' city with my best friend.
Nerves and anxiety are just a part of the process, no matter what the transition is. Whether it's the right of passage that comes with having a pearly white, Invisalign commercial worthy smile, or the transition into adulthood marked by moving halfway across the country and starting a salary-paying job, things get stressful.
Nerves and anxiety are just a part of the process, no matter what the transition is. Whether it's the right of passage that comes with having a pearly white, Invisalign commercial worthy smile, or the transition into adulthood marked by moving halfway across the country and starting a salary-paying job, things get stressful.
So I think that having a blubbering release of stress is totally justified. I just have to make sure that when my next transition rolls around, I cry in front of a different doctor. My optometrist better watch out!
