My Physical
25 Apr
I went for a physical a few weeks ago. My most dreaded day of the year. The doctor spent the entire time talking to me about David’s arthritis. He was really nice and encouraging. He had great advice, but when I got in the car afterwards, I couldn’t help but think, “Hey! That was my physical! Why were we talking about David?”
The doctor did ask me if I had any health concerns or questions about myself, but, still.
Don’t get me wrong. My doctor is great. I’ve gone to him since I was in the third grade. He’s a wonderful Christian man, he’s minimally invasive and he has no problem telling me I don’t need anti-biotics. He’s obviously concerned with my mental and spiritual health, not just my physical health. I just had a self centered moment.
I feel guilty. I guess I am a little tired of talking about arthritis. Or maybe I’m jealous. Maybe I want people to ask me how I’m doing for a change. I don’t know.
His advice was to ask my pastor if he knew of another young woman in a similar caregiving situation that could talk to me. My pastor didn’t, but the doctor asked one of his patients to visit with me. She said yes, and we met for coffee. She was great! She gave me lots of encouragement. The best part was just having someone who understood what it’s like. We could totally relate to each other even though her husband’s condition was completely different. Chronic illnesses seem to have similar affects on families.
I guess that wasn’t such a bad physical.
