I swear I'm not a hypocondriac ...

I'm not. Really. But I did go to the doctor yesterday. And it was the first time I've been since I got the flu about two years ago. On that fateful visit, I was crazy with fever and felt the need to sing "I'm a little teapot" while waiting three hours in the waiting room and another two hours in the room where you actually see the doctor. Yes, I sang, but I was in great pain and it was then, putting up with my craziness, that I knew Pants loved me.

I knew he loved me before, but this was the "in sickness" part of the vow. He took his book, something about a bite on a corn dog, and read and murmmered an occasional "yes dear" to me while I crawled the walls looking for the green doctor who I was sure was hiding in the air vent.

My experience yesterday was much better. I came prepared, loaded up with bottled water, a book on Henry XIII and my crocheting. I opened the front door of the after hours clinic though, and was faced with an empty waiting room. I didn't think I had a fever, but I was sure this had to be a mirage. I cautiously approached the receptionist, and she gave me the necessary paperwork to fill out right away. No waiting.

My name was called and I was ushered into a room to see a doctor right away. I thought, this will be a nice change, I won't feel so guilty for taking up the doctor's time because there aren't any other patients and he's getting paid to be here regardless. Turns out I did have a fever, and higher blood pressure than normal, the nurse said that was because I was sick, but I think that was because I'd just gotten off work.

The doctor came in and hardly made eye contact. I tried to look appropriately sick enough, but both he and the nurse looked at me distrustingly at first, like they assumed I was faking. Seeing as they had my chart right in front of them and could tell that I hadn't been there in about two years, I felt this was unjustified. If I come to you, and you are a trained, professional healer, and I tell you I'm in pain -- try and freakin' heal me! Don't assume I'm a liar or drug addict. It's not like I can get primo narcotics for sinusitus (which is what it turned out that I have). Well, I suppose I can, but that's never been an option afforded to me.

I always feel like I'm such an imposition to these doctors, and it's not specific to this clinic. I know they've got a busy day and only so many minutes to wait on each person and are probably overbooked, but none of that is my fault and I'm in pain. If I had my druthers, I would so not be bothering them and would definitely be saving my money instead of giving them another co-payment.

If I tell you I'm in pain, I'm serious. I'm not making this up and I'd rather not be here. I know you're busy, so I prepared my list of ailments, and the time frames in which I experienced said illnesses for you. Maybe that's why they are suspicious, I've got everything ready. They mistake my preparedness for some fabrication I've been planning to get some precious antibiotics and nasal spray.

Also, I hate nasal sprays. It seems wrong to have an adult tell me to put something up my nose on purpose, which my mom always told me was a bad thing. Also, breathing a liquid up into my nose, throat and lungs, makes me feel a bit like choking, so fun times. Pants told me this morning I'd never be good at cocaine. Oh well, I guess I'll have to put my dreams of being a junkie away with the one about being an orthodontist. (Mine drove jaguars.)

So, $100 poorer and much more medicated, today is a better day. I just sound like crap and am coughing. Despite all that, I'm not contagious ... so let's hug it out bitch!