I sat, alone, thinking i'd be ok, emboldened because my partner sat in the car right outside and would come in if i needed him. The waiting room was crowded and it turned out it was also a "general drop-in clinic". Now i notice coughing children; people without a doctor; a tall man with blonde hair sat in the corner. He was thin and wore glasses. I didn't see him as a threat. I took in the rest of the room, scheming where i would sit and how i would escape.
The receptionist carded me and waved me off to wait. I was truly concerned about sitting beside 'the flu' and 'the cough' sputtering phlegm spray in my direction. That would be BAD if i got sick!! Weird what you have to think of when you're older and weakened by other ailments. I'm not embarrassed about wearing those cloth, throw-away masks, either.
A small man of Asian descent waved at me. He had to speak with this one woman and be right back. That sounded reasonable. True to his word, he soon came back and ushered me through the physically sad, sickly, waiting bunch and we made a quick right turn to his office, a very small (really small!) office. i quickly sat in, as if i had no option, it was so close to the door My knees were touching his desk.
I waited while he read my file. (Jesus Murphy, i thought, you'd think he would have done that BEFORE i got there).
I waited ten minutes, watching him nod his head and turn pages back and forward. I felt embarrassed and uncomfortable knowing that this man, whom i'd never met before, was reading about horribly painful, personal events of my life. Yuk. Not again. I actually have flash cards now, with the abuse events written on them. i REFUSE to keep telling "Doctor" strangers about "what happened". Afterwards, I experience extremely painful after-effect: flashbacks, depression, racing thoughts.
He set the file down.
"So how do you feel right now? What would be your most troublesome symptom? Are you depressed?
"Anxious No. Yes. I'm very confused. I'm basically anxious a lot of the time".
"Well, you're drugs look good. I'm pleased with them. Keep on this track and i will see you in three months".
End of consultation.
Gotta love it.
Now, girls and boys, the moral of this story is LOWER YOUR EXPECTATIONS!
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