Dr. Wonderful strikes again

     Is anyone else out there the kind of person who sheds at least one tear every time you go to the doctor?  No?  Maybe it’s just me, but I get so nervous when I go to the doctor, especially certain types of doctors if you know what I mean, that I ALWAYS cry.  I tell myself that I better not, but I do.  Today was no exception.  I walked in, Christmas cards in hand, like a pro.  I chatted up the front desk lady who recognized me, delivered a card to the ultrasound technicians, who I feel like old friends with, and waved at just about everyone who worked there who either knew me or at least recognized me vaguely.  I waited with my prewritten list, so as to not forget anything, feeling pretty darn confident.  Then, Dr. Wonderful walked in.  I immediately got nervous.  I am a master at controlling my nerves for the most part.  I speak in public regularly, and I’m a high school teacher (first rule of conflict management= do not show nervousness.  It smells to them like blood does to a shark, and they will attack).  However, for some reason, Dr. Wonderful makes me so nervous that I cannot remember that rule.  I would equate it to him having touched most of my organs, but my other surgeon never made me nervous.  I honestly think it is the characteristic that I like most about him that makes me so nervous.  He is serious, sincere, caring, and almost bland (while having just enough personality to keep you coming back) all at the same time.  It’s such an unusual combination for an ob/gyn that I just can’t control my nerves.  He works with another dr. who is so friendly and outgoing that they seem very opposite, and even that makes me like Dr. Wonderful all the more; he’s so serious that he is mysteriously wonderful.  At any rate, I really like him as a doctor, but struggle to hold myself together when in his presence. 

     I almost made it today.  I gave him the Christmas card I brought him, and I went through all of his medical questions for me (which I will spare you the details of) and most of mine for him without crying, but struggling to do so.  Dean, who went with me so that we could do some Christmas shopping afterwards, was silently encouraging me all the while.  When I thought a tear might escape, I glanced to him, and he smiled reassuringly at me, as if to say, “it’s okay baby, but for the love of all things Holy, don’t cry, because you’ll kick yourself for it later.”  (I’m paraphrasing of course.)  He was totally cheering me on the whole time, even jumping in to help when he thought I might lose it.  (This is no easy feat for a man during his wife’s gynecologist appointment.)  **As a side note, I’m secretly afraid my mom is going to cringe at the fact that I am posting about my appointment and actually using the word gynecologist on top of that fact, and I KNOW my dad is, but I’m trying to be honest with you guys, right?…**Back to the point, I almost made it through without crying, and I would have been successful if I hadn’t wanted to talk to him about the amount of time it will take for my body to completely retract and recover.  I asked my question and as the last word came out, my voice cracked.  Not just a little either; it was one of those, no turning back voice cracks that immediately elicited a tear.  It wasn’t the question or even the situation that caused this, but the fact that I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea about me.  I don’t want him to think that I’m vain. (I know, I know, I am probably a little, but I don’t want him to know that even if I do put it out there for the rest of the world.  He’s my gynecologist for crying out loud.)  Once the first tear shed, he seamlessly rolled his chair across the room and grabbed a tissue, (Funny, I would never have thought of them putting them there for that…) which he handed to me without acknowledging the three darn tears that snuck out unwelcomed.  Then, he used the magic that gained him the nickname “Wonderful” on my blog.  I explained apologized for crying by saying that I didn’t want him to think of me as vain (because, you know, if the thought HADN’t occurred to him, saying the actual word won’t make him think it.UGH).  I went through the whole, my kids are worth it, but I don’t want to be permanently deformed story I had been practicing on Dean and Athack from way back.  He said, “First off, I can already tell you that you look great for only 6 months out.”  He then explained that I was not being vain at all.  I was completely validated in feeling uneasy about my changed body and reminded me that I had carried my twins very close to full term.  (Is your heart melting yet?)  He went on to explain that one “might” be able to accuse vanity on someone who is trying to go against her/his natural physicality, but it is in no way vain to want to restore one’s body to its original state.  Most importantly, he told me what I already knew, and what everyone else keeps reminding me of, that it’s going to take more time.  One year up, one year (or more) down.  I was still fully clothed at this point, so it meant even more that he thought I was doing well without actually seeing my torso.  I just needed to hear it from him. 

     I retrospect, I guess it was pretty obvious that I was on the verge of tears the whole time.  He asked me three different times if I was overwhelmed or depressed.  Once as routine, once when I told him I had been getting sick to my stomach when I eat certain foods, and again at the end of the conversation (after the crying).  I assured him that I’m fine.  I mean, I definitely have moments of being overwhelmed (whose life isn’t stressful after all?) and sometimes I probably do have a little bit of PPD to creep up, but it is nothing that I feel needs to be treated, so there’s no need to make it into something that it’s not.  In the end, I think he thinks I’m a little nutty (which I may have mentioned…) but overall normal and ok. 

     I was finally feeling less nervous when he said, “I’ll step out and let you get 'changed' for the exam…”