The Doctor Dilema
We have been living here for most of 2011 and we are yet to find a local doctor. I keep saying I have to do it, but it’s somewhat of a mental block for me.
We have tried a couple of doctors, sometimes they’re okay, other times not so much. One of the issues may be that right now I am not ready to commit to a real doctor-patient relationship and have been going to a bulk billing centre which, apparently, doesn’t employ ‘real’ doctors (an ER doctor told me this. He, of course must be real – even if he missed the problem and gave us nothing what-so-ever to help).
Only recently, I visited one of these non-real doctors to get my first depo shot. When I put the packet up on the desk he said to me “Oh, does that work?” I muttered something about not having had one before while having a little anxiety attack which went a little something like: You’re the doctor; Does it work? Are you kidding me? OhMyGosh. Freak out.
You see, I was (am) somewhat attached to my old doctor.
I suffered a miscarriage a month before falling pregnant with Kahlei and when I visited the doctor I had been seeing I found him quite rude and uncaring in his approach. It was such an emotional time and he made me feel worse, so I left the whole surgery and found My Doctor.
We got lucky. The first doctor we tried after that was perfect for us, he was good with Ellie, he was understanding, he was interested in James and his blood pressure issues and he had first hand experience with a wife who had PND. I felt like he knew me better than I did for quite some time.
He was approachable and always made time to see us, even in full days. He knew I wasn’t an over-reactive parent (to some extent) and that if I was asking for an emergency appointment, it was needed.
He insisted we call him by his first name and it wasn’t weird, it was like we were friends but in a way that it was still comfortable to let him check us over.
He did so much to try and find out WHY James, in his mid-late twenties had high BP.
There was a trust there that I have never before experienced with a doctor, or any other health professional. And it wasn’t just me, James felt the same. He was our doctor, maybe other people saw him but he was ours. So much so that he made it on our pro/con list for moving and once we were here he was on of the major cons about staying.
In fact, the last time I needed to talk about my mental health and get a new prescription I made the five hour trip to see him. Yes. Really.
So here we are. Officially in our own place, officially here. Me with a busted knee, on crutches and maybe in need of a MRI and James in need of a new prescription, not to mention Jasper needs his 12 month shots. Without a doctor. And all I want to do is go back to Our Doctor.
Did I mention I was attached?