bracing myself for cancer.

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

I just scheduled my first official doctor's appointment in... 15 years?

Yeah. I know. The thing is, I kinda stopped going to doctors in high school. In elementary and middle school, my mom would take me to a free clinic to get antibiotics when I was sick. Then I was at a dermatologist's office every other week for two years, dealing with terrible acne that now, in hindsight, I recognize as hormonal and didn't require the chemical peels and microdermabrasion and stabbing, painful procedures that I endured. I just needed to not guzzle hormone-laden cow's milk is all. Which I did. My entire life. Until college. When I stopped drinking dairy milk and started taking hormonal birth control and my acne miraculously cleared up.

I can think of two times in college when I went to our on-campus clinic to see 1) a psychologist and immediately 2) a nurse practitioner who prescribed me the birth control I've been taking ever since.

Otherwise, my primary care has been provided once a year by various nurse practitioners via Planned Parenthood, wherein I would sit there and say no I'm not pregnant, no I don't smoke, I just need birth control so I don't kill myself.

When I lived in Nashville, the parents I worked for were internal medicine doctors. So when my birth control prescription ran out, they would re-fill it without asking questions or seeing me naked. And one time I was prescribed Tamiflu because their middle kid started puking all over me.

It's, like... a fancy medical place. Run by UCLA. I've reached that point in adulthood where I can go to UCLA medical centers to get medical care. I can also buy clothes at Anthropologie, you guys. And I mean, stuff that isn't even on sale.

I'm not bragging! I'm just proud of myself. There's a difference. The medical care I can get through UCLA is theoretically amazing and if I am driven by ANYTHING in this world, is it superiority.

And the acceptance of attractive people.

So I hope it all works out.