winkgirl4's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- On to the Doctor. I am exhausted- weary, even. I've been as sick as I can ever rememeber being for about a week and a half, now. I keep saying, "Yes, okay, okay, I'll go to the doctor," knowing that I've not really had any intention of doing anything of the sort. That ends today. I'm breaking down. I'm going. Let me tell you how much I dislike doctors: I have been paying into a health insurance policy for two years and- short of one eye doctor visit, last year- I've not collected on any of the benefits. Why, that sounds financially irresponsible, doesn't it? I know. I know. I pay for the insurance just in case I need it, but when the time comes that I do, I abhor using it. And it's not the insurance. It's the doctors. I'm not intimidated, in the slightest, by the sight of needles or blood. I don't get queasy over medical procedures. I'm not afraid of doctors. I'm not even such a miser that I hate paying for the attention. It's that I hate going in and having a doctor imply that I'm not really as sick as I feel. Now, I'll admit that I do the exact same thing with my family members. They complain about being ill or something like their uvula aching and then it escalates into how they are dying and how this is absolutely the worst case of whatever, ever. I always assume that most members of my family are suffering from some form of hypochondriasis. So, when I get sick I try not to let it affect my everyday life as much as possible. And that's really easy enough because I seldom ever get sick. I treat all sicknesses with increased water and vitamins and resort to medicine when it absolutely dictates. And then, when all else fails and I'm able to take the time to do so, I go see a doctor. I've got to run to the doctor, I'll let you know how it goes. 11:11 a.m. - 2003-12-02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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