Superhero woes

Hello My name is Patti, and I have an aversion to doctors. And dentists. And appointments, in general. They make me uncomfortable. The appointments. And the doctors and dentists.

I don`t know whether it's that I'm a wimpy-doodle, or whether I've just had my share of crummy hygienists and doctors, but I'll tell you - I've had some run ins with the most unpleasant people in the medical field. Not like, American Horror Story Asylum unpleasant, that would be intense. Just generally poor-bedside manner, and, okay, maybe I am a wimpy-doodle.

It wasn't always like this. I adored my family doctor as a child, and even made him a Christmas card, once. I also really enjoyed going to the dentist. Maybe the fact that they had a treasure chest attributed to that.

Either way - I've been a little... shall we say.. hesitant, to book appointments with doctors or dentists over the past 2 years. Okay, maybe it's been longer since I've seen my doctor. Okay, I can hear you rolling your eyes at me and yelling at me because it's irresponsible, but I'm sorry. They scare me.

Last year I had some problems with my SI joint, rendering me unable to walk, so I had to go to a chiropractor for the first time, and I was terrified. When you're in excruciating pain, the last thing you want is for some stranger to TOUCH you and move you and crack you. But I went - 3 times a week for the first month - and it totally made me be able to walk down the aisle (YAY!) and also made me feel like, okay, maybe this healthcare thing is good to take care of. Like, maybe I should be better about looking after myself. Tomorrow I will call the dentist. And tomorrow I will call the doctor.

And then I had a nightmare that my chiropractor yelled at me for not coming in frequently enough, but followed that with "on the other hand, you're like a miracle. With your EXCESSIVE size, it's nothing short of a miracle that you can walk."

And that was horrible.

So I didn't call.

But then, guess what happened?

When I was at Design Thinkers, I took a really embarrassing little tumble, wedging my foot into a street car track. My friends were awesome about it, and I played it off like it didn't hurt at all because I'm superwoman, but guys, it friggen hurt. It didn't hurt as much as my SI joint issue, though, so I was all "okay, like.. it hurts, but it's not the end of the world." So I sucked it up. Like, superhero style.

It's bothered me from time to time. Like, when I touch it or anything else touches it. But for the most part, it's been  kinda like a string. Yeah. A string. You know how you tie strings around your finger in order to remember things? Well, the pain has acted like a jolt of "REMEMBER TO BE CREATIVE" and "REMEMBER THAT FUN TIME YOU HAD?" So then it kinda makes me smile. Also, because I'm a superhero.

It's been over a month since I hurt my foot, and I told my coworker I was pretty sure I'd broken it or something, but I can be dramatic sometimes, so I think he just thought "there goes Patti again, being all dramatic."

From time to time I would bring it up. It really didn't feel very good, but it was manageable pain (because it definitely didn't bring me to my knees). So, still a superhero.

The other night as theGuy and I were in bed, I turned over and winced as I knocked the one foot with the other. He asked what was up, and I told him I'd accidentally knocked my broken foot.

He laughed at me. He also thought I was being dramatic. So I made him sit up, and feel the huge pointy bump on the side of my foot, which did not exist on the other side (and by huge, I mean the size of like.. a large pea).

"Holy shit. You did break your foot," said he. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Oh, it wasn't a big deal," I said. "I'm kind of a superhero."

TheGuy is all about researching freak things and accidents and stuff, so he told me "Patti, you need to get that looked at. They're probably going to have to rebreak it so it can set properly."

Oh yeah, like that's not horrifying. I told him it was fine.

"I think there's something wrong with your nerves! You shouldn't be able to walk! If you leave it," he said, "you could even get bone cancer from it growing improperly. Or cauliflower foot. You know, like cauliflower ear?"

Who's dramatic now?

I rolled my eyes and ignored him. And then I couldn't sleep, because I was too busy thinking about how I was probably going to get cancer in the foot and how I would deal with that, and preparing myself for all the things that would happen, and trying to decide what kind of wig I would wear. And I'm not joking, people, this is actually how my mind works. So it was a sleepless night. And I decided I would get a bunch of different wigs, all in red, so I could switch it up. And then I started thinking about how I wouldn't have to spend any time doing my hair because I'd have wigs, and then I was scared that in thinking that, I was jinxing myself, and then I really couldn't sleep. And I was also craving cauliflower.

Anyway. It worked. The scare totally worked. Not only have I booked a doctor's appointment, but I've also booked a hair appointment (I don't like those, either) and am in the process of getting a new dentist.

I'm so totally grown up and responsible. And still a superhero.

Is anyone out there freaked of doctors and dentists? Or, are you in love with them? Please don't scare me more, but I'd like to know!                     

(Also - I booked my appointment at the dentist. Next week. If I don't ever return, it's because I hyperventilated and died o fright.)

(Also - my fear of the dentist does not mean my teeth are gross. I probably OVER-brush my teeth, if anything. Oh no, I totally do! They're going to yell at me! Ah!)