Going to the doctor is like going for a job interview

You have only so much time to make a good impression and get it right.

I find that my family and working status colors the way I'm perceived as a patient. Do you work full-time? Where? Oh. Your job must be stressful. Have kids? Oh three little ones by yourself? You should get someone to help you! Oh. No family in the area? That must be stressful too. And a recent divorce? How's that going for you? (really?!) . . . .  Maybe you need an anti-anxiety medication.

If I could tell you how many times that's the diagnosis it would make your head spin. Sore throat? Well given the stress in your life, maybe Xanax would help. Backpain? Xanax. Trouble swallowing food? Xanax. Trouble sleeping? Xanax.  Fell down and broke your wrist? . . . You get the idea. And don't get me wrong, I'm not against Xanax. I think it's wonderful stuff for the right issue at the right time. But it's not a cure-all for "modern-life-itis." At least, not mine.

And okay, okay.  I get that those are all "side effects" of stress (except maybe the falling down part, but Doctors would find a way to connect it).  And I get that reducing stress could potentially reduce some of these "ailments" I suffer from, but I don't want to "medicate" myself!  I don't want to "feel" better. I want to BE better! Not depressed which YOU just made me by pointing out all the downsides in my life right now.  Suggest some lifestyle changes that I'm CAPABLE of following through on.  And not just "Maybe you should try to reduce the stress in your life."

Oh!  I guess I never thought about that!  Wow!  Revelation.  I know, I'll stop sewing, one of my few stress-relieving outlets.  Yah, that's it, get rid of my hobbies, that'll be good for me emotionally.  Maybe I should get more sleep, right?  Tonight, when I get home from work, I'll just jump straight into bed and get some good rest. . . . Oh, hold the phone, there's that thing where I have three little kids who need to be fed, loved and cared for.  I know - why don't I just get rid of some of my kids?

So . . . next time I go in for an interview, oh I mean Doctor's appointment, I'm going to start by saying, "Hi.  My name is Rebecca.  I'm an independently wealthy, stay-at-home mom to my cat.  I don't work and I my live-in boyfriend waits on me hand and foot (well, okay he probably would if he didn't live in Ireland ;)  I have tons of friends who bring me food (well, that part has been true ;), and I take lavish, totally relaxing month-long vacations to Aruba 20 times a year.  My family lives next door and jump at the chance to help me, all I have to do is call.  But I have this nagging pain in my little toe. . . . Can you help me?"