My Week At The Doctor

…because apparently I have ebola.

Just kidding, it’s anxiety. And spoiler alert, someone with anxiety will probably do anything to see a doctor as soon as freakin possible.

Anxiety hit me like a ton of bricks this week. Maybe I was supposed to have this kind of freakout two years ago when I graduated college and I’m just now having it, but boy, did I have it. And I lived to blog about it.

So Monday afternoon rolls around and I head to Richardson, America to see my doctor for said anxiety. I’m anxious and speeding down George Bush Highway ready to run over someone. HAHA THAT’S A LAURA BUSH JOKE DO YOU GET IT. I arrive promptly and they call me into the room quickly. The woman takes my weight, my blood pressure and my pulse. My pulse is 99. I have no idea what that means. She tells me that’s a little high and it could be because of the anxiety. I say NO SHIT BARNEY FIFE. The doctor comes in. He says everything will be ok. He prescribes me a new medication because my old one makes me sick. Because he’s retiring at the end of the month, he tells me what other doctors I should see. He hugs me goodbye like he’s never going to see me again.


Tuesday was not good. I don’t want to go into detail but it was bad. A lot of panic attacks.

Wednesday I made it to work and my heart rate was still really high. I don’t know that for sure, but I felt it in my chest. So around 11 a.m., I call my doctor back and I’m like hey, I still don’t feel great and I’m a Millennial with anxiety, so I want results like yesterday. The nurse is like ma’am, can you calm down. I’ll talk to the doctor.

She calls me back and says, “The doctor wants to check your thyroid.”

WELL CRAP. I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT A THYROID IS, BUT CALL ME NINA PHAM BECAUSE I’M SURELY DYING OF EBOLA. That’s the only logical explanation. Does Winston have the ebola? How long have I had it? They’re going to have to raid my apartment. I’m going to get so much media attention. This blog is going to go viral. God, I hope they use the right diaries when they make a movie about me. If it’s anything like Brittany Murphy’s Lifetime movie, I’ll kill someone.

I get on the phone with my mother and she’s like oh, ok. “Yeah, your grandmother has a thyroid problem and it’s not a big deal. It’s located in your neck. And that weatherwoman on Fox 4 has a scar from thyroid surgery. You’ll be fine.” SURGERY???????

Well how do they check my thyroid, I ask my mother, who was once a nurse. They take blood, she informs me.

OH GOOD. Just a quick needle in my veins to take some blood. Because that’s worked out well for me in the past. SIDENOTE: I *always* pass out when I see blood. I’m very delicate and you should probably hold me.

I make an appointment to have my thyroid checked, aka learn about my ebola destiny, on Monday. But after sitting with that plan for all of 30 minutes, I decide my heart cannot physically handle waiting that long. I call the doctor back and demand they see sooner.

PMS: “Yes, I made an appointment for Monday, but I want one sooner because I’m not needy at all.”
DOC Office: “Yes, ok, what are you coming in for?”
PMS: “Anxiety and to have my thyroid checked.”
DOC: “Ok, can you come in today? Wait, no you can’t. You’ll need to fast. How about tomorrow?”
PMS: “Sure, tomorrow works.”
DOC: “Ok, see you then.”
PMS: “Do I need to fast?”
DOC: “Um, let me ask.”
DOC: “What are you getting done? How long has your heart rate been up?”
PMS: “Um, for like a week. And I’m getting my thyroid checked.”
DOC: “Yeah, ok, go ahead and fast.”

Well, leave PMS in front of a computer with an Internet connection because the world wide web said you typically don’t need to fast before a thyroid test. Suspicious, I call my doctor back because I’m seriously not annoying at all. I leave a message.

I’m sure it’s my thyroid, I mean that would make so much sense as to why I’m always tired and lazy, I say to my mother. I think it’s probably your diet, she whips back at me.

My doctor’s nurse calls me back at says you don’t need to fast. This was after I had just fasted and stared at a chocolate chip cookie on my desk for the past 24 hours. It’s fine. I resist the urge to faint and eat the cookie.

I arrive at the doctor’s office and my mommy met me there because I’m 8 years old and need a mother’s touch when giving blood. I walk back to the room and she takes my weight again and blood pressure and heart rate. My heart rate is now 101. OH MY GOD, AM I RUNNING A MARATHON OR AM I ANXIOUS I DON’T KNOW THE DIFFERENCE. The doc comes in and is like you are really making me work before I retire. He didn’t say that but I could see it in his eyes. He’s like well we’re going to do a CMYK scan. And I’m like, like the colors????? Is this PR Graphics all over again??? Do I know my colors?? I didn’t study?? So this nurse takes me back to a room and I get on a hard bed and lift my shirt and she puts stickers all over my body and takes a giant picture. I’m not entirely sure what kind of scan it was, but I survived like the troop I am.

And then the doc is like everything is ok there.

So then he’s like let me give you some new medication and some nausea medicine and everything will be ok. Now, go to the lab and get your thyroid test.

I’m like, ok, mommy, let’s go. I’m going to give blood so the doctor can finally tell me I do in fact have ebola and Nina Pham and I can write a book together and live together and her dog and Winston can be friends and we’ll get our own TV show and Matt Lauer is going to interview me and honestly, I always thought I would be famous. I just didn’t know it would be for having ebola a year after ebola is no longer a thing. I’m just really blessed I can use my voice to make a difference.

I still don’t have the results back from the thyroid test, but I’m sure everything is fine. My anxiety is also better. Thank u. God bless you and Chris Kyle.

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