Doctor, Help Me Out?

“Those are all my symptoms. And all this has been going on for months now. It’s been causing me so much anxiety. Not knowing what to do or how to treat it, or even why it’s happening.” Monica crosses one leg over the other, her fingers tapping anxiously against her leg. “That’s why I came here today. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

The nurse is nodding like a bobblehead, scribbling down furious notes in her pad.

“Of course, Ms. Miles,” she says kindly. “Don’t worry, health anxiety is completely understandable and normal. We will figure this out for you, no problem.”

She turns to face the doctor, a stern-faced older gentleman, who nods fervently as well. “Right, doctor?”

“Of course,” the doctor says with ease. “We’re the experts, after all.” He pushes his glasses up his nose, and he doesn’t say anything more.

“So,” the nurse pipes, “what were your symptoms again?”

Frowning slightly, Monica stares up at the nurse. “I… just told you all of them.”

“Ah, yes. Right, right. We will absolutely help you out with that. We know just the solution.”

Monica blinks, leaning forward slightly. “Great,” she says. “Thank you guys so much, I really appreciate your help. So… what do you think could be wrong with me?”

“Well, it could be a lot of things,” the doctor says.

Monica feels her brow creasing. “Such as?”

“We can’t say for sure, yet,” the nurse cuts in sweetly.

“Yes, indeed. I’ll need some time to determine that. I’ll need to run some tests. They might be a bit pricey, but it is what it is.” The doctor adjusts his glasses again. “These things take time, Ms. Miles.”

“Yes,” Monica responds slowly. “Of course, doctor.”

“We’ll give you some medicine in the meantime to help you feel better,” the nurse adds lightly. She puts a hand on Monica’s shoulder. “To take all the pain away.”

“Okay,” Monica says, her brow creasing. “Great. I really appreciate that, it will help a lot. But… can you tell me exactly what you think might be wrong with me?”

“You can’t expect us to know what’s wrong if you don’t tell us everything!” the nurse exclaims. “We may be professionals, but we’re not mind readers.”

“But I already told you all my symptoms,” Monica says desperately. “I told you everything I’ve been through, everything I know. I don’t need a solid, firm answer, but just an idea of what might be wrong would be nice. Any tests I could take, like the doctor recommended, or—”

“Here’s the name of the medicine you can take for the pain.” The nurse thrusts her pad into Monica’s face, so close the wooden corner of it nearly hits her in the eye. “That should be your first priority, right? Medicine for your pain. If you’re not faking, of course.” She lets out a high laugh.

“Of course I’m not faking!” Monica says angrily. “How dare you?”

“Nurse, of course she’s not faking!” The doctor shakes his head at Monica in apology. “She’s an honest, paying customer at this establishment. Such a respectable, open-pocketed woman would never lie.”

“I’m visiting you guys for help,” Monica snaps, straightening up in her chair. “I’m not a customer, I’m a patient! I’m not here to buy a damn coffee. I’m here because I’m scared about my health.”

“Just take the medicine!” The nurse raps a finger on the notepad. “It’ll take all the pain away.”

“But will it treat the problem?” Monica insists. “And what exactly is the problem, nurse? Just an idea? A guess?”

“That’ll require another appointment,” the doctor cuts in. “I’m available next week on Thursdays and Fridays. I can offer you some tests then.”

“Doctor, I’m here right now! Why do you need me to make another appointment if i—”

“Time’s up!” The doctor pushes his glasses far up once again. “Another appointment, Ms. Miles, and you’ll have all the answers. Healthcare isn’t free, you know.”

“Neither is the medicine,” the nurse adds. “That’ll be three hundred dollars for the drug, please.”

Monica presses a hand against her forehead. “You have got to be kidding me!”

“And the copay will be seventy five dollars,” the doctor says. “At the front desk with Camille.”

“You didn’t help me the slightest bit!” Monica cries, slamming her hands down on the table before her. “You just made me even more anxious and robbed me blind!”

The doctor and nurse share a glance and a secret smile before turning back to her.

“Pay at the front desk, Ms. Miles,” they tell her in unison.

-

Pretty much how I’ve been feeling as of late 😂

Just to be clear, I have nothing but love and respect for all the great doctors and nurses out there that have helped me and so many others survive some really hard and scary times. They are the true heroes of our society and I commend them for their service. But man, unfortunately some of my recent experiences with doctors have left me reeling and lingering in anxiety-driven dread.

Thanks for reading!