First thing this morning I had an appointment for a pap smear. Not the best of ways to start a day, but at least I was going to get this unpleasant responsibility out of the way early. All went fine on the testing front. What didn’t go as fine was my reaction to the doctor who administered the procedure.
Part of the problem was due to a bad choice on my part. I wanted to get this out of the way sooner rather than later, so I didn’t wait until my regular doctor was available. I figured, a pap is a pap, so it shouldn’t matter who does it. Boy, was Iwrong.
This morning’s doctor took it upon herself to examine my whole life. This despite the fact that i told her I already had a primary physician whom I really liked, who had reviewed my (relatively) recent bloodwork and had already discussed some nutritional choices with me.
But Dr. Tin Ear would hear none of it. She made some really inaccurate assumptions about my diet and suggested I go on an Atkins or South Beach diet (do people still do these?). This despite the fact that I told her I was mostly a vegetarian with recent movement towards turkey (based on the recommendations of the aforementioned doctor). No, she wanted me to give up all carbs, beans included. The most she would concede was urging me to hear out what the office nutritionist had to say.
If she had bothered to read my chart (which I know she hadn’t based on her own admission) she would have found that I have a history of eating disorders and that my weight and diet are sensitive subjects with me. And, let me reiterate, as soon as she started on the subject, I mentioned that I was already working on those very same issues with ANOTHER DOCTOR.
Honestly, interactions with self-righteous doctors like Dr. Tin Ear make me want to go home and work my way through the Halloween candy we have begun to amass. I didn’t (and won’t), but that is only because I can comfort myself with the knowledge that she doesn’t know me, and likely never will.
Most importantly, I am fortunate enough to have a regular gynecologist whom I like (and have been going to for years) and tends to stick to her own area of expertise. And, on the rare occasion she has questions or concerns about the rest of the body, is content to leave it to my primary whom she knows I like and trust.
Despite my frustration, the appointment did end with some good news. I am now so low risk for cervical cancer that I can move from annual paps to one every 3 years. I can’t say I am going to miss this particular bit of annual unpleasantness. And, in 3 years time, I certainly will be more than happy to wait until I can see my regular doctor.