the fates have done it again — timing is apparently everything
The culmination of factors leading to the events of this morning can only be attributed to the evil doing of fate. First of all, my appointment with the GI was cancelled a couple of weeks ago. Then, last night I worked late…left around 6 and we usually work until 4…and I remembered a few blocks away that I had left my wallet on my desk. I had to knock on someone's window to get back into the building and I wouldn't have bothered to come back except for the fact that I had a GI appointment and needed my health card.
So, this morning, I'm good, I'm happy, I'm ready to go and I get stopped by construction twice. I then turn onto a street and am driving down the road when I'm cresting a hill and, at the last second, see an unmarked cop car coming at me. I cringe as I look into the rearview mirror and see him pull a U-turn.
Luckily, I had gone back to get my wallet because now I need my license. He (nicely) knocked the ticket down to 10 over and $40 (no points lost). When I think about it, it's the first ticket in 10 years of driving and a lot of speeding, so I'm not too concerned, though it still kind of sucks.
Finally, I arrive at the doctors. He calls me in and I can feel my hands clasp together and then the grip tighten so that my knuckles are white. I'm definitely trying to not lunge across the desk and punch him in his smug, condescending face.
Now, I've not had much luck with the GI as you can see here and here and here oh, and one of the best ones here or the tongue idiot that he sent me to either. And today was particularly frustrating because he, yet again, asked a lot of the same questions. In fact I, for the fourth time, told him about changing my diet to the anti-candia, no gluten, sugar, dairy routine and he honestly looked shocked! THIS IS NOT NEWS! I have been telling him this since last September! He honestly said to me:
him: that's a really restrictive diet
me: yes, yes it is
him: but you can't buy anything at a normal grocery store or anything!
me: um, yep, pretty much
MORON! The basis of the entire conversation was that he's a pragmatist (Brian was impressed when I used the term in a conversation today) and he can't see beyond his stupid little tests. He smirked when I mentioned the osteopath (now, shouldn't you at least acknowledge the fact that there are other options?) and said that whatever "hocus pocus" (he ACTUALLY said hocus pocus) he was doing was probably working because I wanted it to work (ie, I'm crazy and the dyingness is all in my head because clearly there isn't anything wrong with me). I swear to God I wanted to fight him tooth and nail on the topic, but I managed to bite my still ulcerated tongue (which I mentioned doesn't fit into his "diagnosis" of "maybe you just have IBS"). At least I managed to hold back the tears of frustration, and at least there isn't any cancer growing in my GI tract, which is nice to know.
I guess I could maybe (maybe) let him off a bit if he were some over-the-hill, set in his ways kind of guy, but he's probably in his late 30s, and the fact that he's already so set in this frame of mind is a hinderance to his patients. I'm still so angry at the entire morning, but at least I never have to see him again. The GI is officially out of my life! Yay!