Experiences with the Doctor

I’m convinced that I have one of the worst immune systems in the world. Honestly, like, I think it could be in one of those world record books or something. It seems like I always have some way of catching some random sickness that no one knows anything about. It’s crazy. I don’t even know how it is possible! Pretty much every school year, I seem to contract something new and this is why whenever I feel slightly different from normal, my mom automatically takes me to the doctors.

Aside from all the normal common colds, I’ve had like the weirdest shit wrong with me. There was that time my intestines were all moving around in me. Got out of soccer tryouts for that one. There was that month out of school for rebound ocular migraines. That was a blast. Let me tell ya, I had some crazy hallucinations during that time period. Oh and I totally loved having to see a neurologist to do tests on my brain. Oh and how could I forget, the highlight of that experience, being strapped down for a cat scan of my brain like some kind of science experiment. There was torticollis which was also fun. I mean who doesn’t love being given medicine you’re allergic too? These accomplishments, as I would call them because I’m still alive, are just some of my medical defeats. My list is never ending and still growing.

Being forced, against my will, to go to that horrible place so many times has caused me to become petrified of the doctors. I mean, I obviously had to go because there was clearly stuff wrong with me all those times, but I still always refuse to go. I become extremely paranoid about every situation. It is pretty ironic that I am not calm about these visits. I thought the more you do something, the more comfortable it gets for you. Guess it doesn’t work that way with this. It is literally is one of my biggest fears to set foot in one of those establishments. Actually, I lied. Even the parking lot of those establishments is terrifying. The whole atmosphere of a visit with the doctor is physically, mentally, and emotionally draining. I guess that would be because I always suspect they will tell me I’m dying or something that is inevitable, but should not happen at a young age. One of my most memorable encounters with the doctor was in May of 2009 and it is one visit that I will never forget.

It began one night when I felt the cold, clammy hands of death grasp my neck; I was feeling completely miserable. I was coughing my way to my coffin and all I wanted to do was lay down in the silent darkness of my room and sleep. Forever. This was clearly not a good sign and my Mom soon realized that I had a lot of symptoms of the Flu; in fact, I had all of them! My mother called the doctor and I got an appointment for the next day. The nurse told my mother that when we arrived at the doctor’s office we would have to call and inform them we were there. My Mom left this detail out because she knew I would flip a shit, since I’m such a difficult person when it comes to doctors.

When we arrived at Woburn Pediatrics, the parking lot was packed. We circled so many times it felt like we were on an endless race track and time was in slow motion. When I proceeded to exit the car and get this visit over with, my Mom said, “Don’t go outside just yet. I have to make a call.” She called the nurse.

All I heard was my mom saying, “We are here now.” That was followed by, “Yes, it is just the two of us.” I thought this was strange. Why would they need to know that? Why would we even have to call? My mind began jumping wildly to conclusions of panic and nervous anticipation for the worst.

“Stop thinking so cynically,” my mom said.

I hated that she could read my gaze so easily. Mother’s intuition and knowing all about their kids always bites you in the ass. I had secrets though. Things she would never know or figure out and it felt good to have that in the back of my mind. She couldn’t figure everything out. She didn’t know me, but I really… hoped she could tell what I was thinking now as I smirked at her with eyes that could pierce through her.

I was taken out of my pessimistic fantasies when my Mom said, “We need to wait outside until someone comes to meet us. Let’s go.”

I got out of the car and began walking to the building as slowly as I could. I stared at the ground picturing myself headed for my own execution. Who would go to my funeral? Eh, probably not many. Worst part about this was that I was brought to my execution by my own Mom! This would take time to be forgiven.

A nurse came outside in a mask. “What are your names?”

Damn, she wanted us. I knew she did, but in the back of the mind I hoped it wasn’t true.

The nurse then put a mask on my mother. She looked so stupid in that mask. Then the nurse came straight at my face with her arms stretched out like Frankenstein holding the horrifying mask. My mother laughed as she saw the hate and anger blazing in my eyes. Along with the fear of not knowing what was going on. It was not even like a simple ha ha sort of chuckle. Like, she reached the stage of an obnoxious squeal of a laugh that peaked with snorting.

“Real mature,” I said dryly. “You are supposed to be making me feel better. You’re the adult here!”

“Ha ha… Sorry. Ha… I can’t… help it! Your face is priceless!” She began to compose herself as she said, “I’m a big kid. You make me laugh. Sorry.”

When she spoke that last sorry, it never processed in my mind. I was too focused on her often used catch phrase about her being a big kid. She said that as much as she said please and thank you and that was often because my Mom was always polite to everyone. I stared at her trying to think of what to say back to her, but I didn’t have to say anything.

“Okay now, follow me,” said the Nurse. “We are going to go right up this stairway here on the right.”

They both caught the slight uneasiness in my voice as I said, “Why can’t we go in the elevators like we normally do?”

The Nurse replied with, “Don’t worry. We are just going on a little adventure. It will be fun!”

That Nurse was so peppy when she spoke that it was annoying. She was definitely one of those overly happy people that just need to be slapped into reality for a second. I’ve never liked overly happy people. They always seem to rub me the wrong way.

We were escorted up a back stairway that I had never seen before like we were hiding out from paparazzi, yet this was not so glamorous. There were no rats in this staircase, but it felt like there were and by the looks of this place, there should have been. The Nurse looked at me and gave me a little smile to proceed. It was meant to be comforting, but all I wanted to do was smack it off her face. How old did she think I was? Like two, I guess. Does she really think going up a dirty staircase is my idea of a fun time? I mean if she does, we clearly didn’t see eye to eye. I bet her idea of a party was scrubbing some floors.

I didn’t understand how she could call this an adventure. Adventures are supposed to lead you to something that is worth seeing. There was nothing worth seeing in this stairway. The most interesting sight was the paint chips that had fallen off the wall. They seemed to make a smiley face, but only if you titled your head kind of funny to left, squinted really hard, and were standing on a particular step. I pretty much wouldn’t recommend you waiting to see this hidden attraction, but that Nurse will tell you otherwise!

Once we got to the proper floor, I was taken directly to a room. “Why are we not going to the waiting room? Why are we going this way?” No one answered my questions. As I walked by parents, they would cover their little children and look at me as if I was a plague with my ridiculous mask. I never saw people turn away from my so quickly. Everywhere I looked, I saw no faces. It was a sea of turned heads and I was embarrassed more than ever. After what seemed like an eternity of a walk with people shunning me out and the grim reaper’s theme song playing in my head, I got to the room.

I sat with my mom in this tiny room for a long time. I broke the silence between us. “I can’t believe you brought me here!”

“You are sick. I had to. I wouldn’t be a good parent if I didn’t. You will be fine.”

I hoped she was right. “You don’t have to always be a good parent. I would have been perfectly fine with you leaving me to die… this time.”

“You are so dramatic! I should’ve named you Mona with all the moaning you do.”

“If you named me Mona, I wouldn’t be here right now. I would be dead or in hiding from the ridicule I would get at school for having such a hideous name.”

She thought she was clever when she said, “Maybe some people would take your name as being as beautiful as the Mona Lisa. Or maybe they would think you loved art, which are both true.”

I shut down her attempt of a compliment with a simple, “Yeah totally Mom. Everyone looks at the Mona Lisa and says ‘What a babe!’ Good one.”

After another awkward silence, I began to laugh uncontrollably. Of course it was a nervous laughter, but at the same time, I realized how silly I looked with my mask. The mask was such a hassle. I had a violent cough attack every few minutes and still wasn’t allowed to take my mask off. I love having my own germs trying to escape from my mouth and bouncing back off the mask at myself. No one cared that I was uncomfortable in my own germs. Many doctors came in and out all wearing that mask like it was the latest trend. They did all different tests on me and everything was coming back negative. They did not understand what was wrong with me and if they didn’t, I certainly had no clue. I was really getting sick of all the tests and all I wanted to do was sleep. Exhaustion has set in from all the waiting around with no results of what was wrong.

One of the many doctors then said, “We will test for the flu, but I really don’t think you have it.”

The doctor shoved some swabs up my nose. I never would have thought that you would have to stick something up your nose to check for the flu. Again, my Mom and I had to wait in the tiny room wondering what the results would be. The doctor seemed so confident that I didn’t have the flu, but I guess doctors make mistakes.

The doctor poked his head in the door and mumbled through his mask, “You have the swine flu.”

My Mom was shocked, “Does she really? But, you said…”

I sat there thinking how cliché it was and that I would get the swine flu. I mean it was such a big joke at school. Someone coughed… and automatically you would get the typical statement of, “Oh you have the swine flu!”

“You are going to have to be away from all people for seven days. After seven days you won’t be contagious. I am prescribing you Tamiflu. You are allowed to have this medicine because we have found that you have the flu within 48 hours.”

My Mom said boastfully, “See this why we don’t wait. We go to the doctors when something is wrong. If I listened to you, you wouldn’t be able to have medicine.” She then turned to the doctor, “I have Tamiflu at home from something else. I don’t remember what, but they are not expired or anything. Can I just give her that?”

As he handed her a write up of a prescription he said, “If it is the same dosage you can. If not just pick up a bottle of the pills after you check at home. Any other questions?”

We didn’t have any, but my Mom knew was I was thinking. As I said before, I am a difficult person and I made my mom spend extra money to get me my medicine in liquid form. I know I should have at least attempted to swallow the pills and save my Mom the trouble of making another trip, but I just couldn’t.

I was escorted back out the building. The first thing I did when I stepped outside into the fresh air was tear off that damn mask. I ripped it to shreds.

“I was going to make you wear that in the house! Why did you do that? Do you want us all to get the flu?” She was angry with me.

“There is no chance in hell I am wearing that in the house!”

“Well you are not allowed out of your room without your mouth covered. I’m not letting you contaminate the whole house.”

Still frustrated with everything that happened that day, I said, “That’s a real good idea. Let me starve in my room. I can’t even go to the bathroom with those rules. That’s fine. Without being able to go out and get food and water I won’t have to anyway.”

That car ride to pick up the medicine was awkward. I listened to the radio and tried to tune out my Mom telling my Dad what happened on the phone. She told me not to tell anyone what was wrong with me. I promised I wouldn’t, but I told two people. I told my cousin in Colorado. I figured he is on the other side of the country so why not. I also told this boy James. I told him everything. My Mom still doesn’t know that they know. She didn’t even tell anyone outside of my immediate family. That was pretty shocking because she is a big talker.

When we reached my house, I slowly walked up the stairs and down the hall to my room to get my last glimpse of life outside the four walls of my bedroom. I didn’t say a word or even acknowledge anyone as I walked. I just took in everything. As I closed the door behind me, I realized that this was it and my lockdown had begun. I would be stuck in this forsaken compound all alone for the next seven days and would slowly lose my sanity.

Those seven days of lockdown are a blur. I don’t know what happened. Maybe it’s the medicines to blame. Maybe I don’t remember because nothing happened. All I know is that no one went in and I never went out. I lived in the dark that week. Figuratively and literally. The shades stayed shut and I spoke to no one. Although I can’t remember what happened that week, I will never forget what led up to it. All I can say is that when I opened the door to release the beast I had become, things were a lot brighter.

#creativewriting #swineflu #doctors #sickness #humor