Sunday, June 19, 2005

The Crazy Doctor

So the Mystery Illness is still going strong. After another round of tests and more visits to more specialists, there's still no answer. My favourite appointment in this round had to be when I went to see the Ear, Nose and Throat guy. He was young, cute and very nice. He warned me that he was going to stick something long and hard down my throat and I thought: "Yes!" Sadly, it was just some sort of camera on a stick. I warned him that I might gag and he said that wasn't a problem. I suppose he's used to it. So when I, of course, gagged on it like I knew I would, he simply smiled and said: "No problem. I have an easier way to check." Yeah, easier for him! The easier way consisted of him taking a long tube with a small camera on the end and ramming it up my nose and down into my throat! Yes, it was as horrific as it sounds. It didn't hurt but man was it uncomfortable! And I still gagged on the damn thing, only I couldn't do anything about it because it was up my nose and down my throat! People, trust me when I tell you this, if you ever have to go see one of these specialists, for the love of God, do not gag on the first camera!!

So, after we've gone through this round of tests with no answer, my doctor finally decides I should go see The Crazy Doctor. No, she's not crazy. She's a doctor for crazy people. Some people call her a psychiatrist but I call 'em as I see 'em. If you're of sound mind, you don't need a shrink. Frankly, I don't think that a shrink is going to help solve the Mystery Illness but after feeling like crap for 9 months, I'm willing to try anything. And I know I have issues. I probably should have been sent to see The Crazy Doctor years ago!

(By the way, for those who were wondering, I'm back to smoking. I'm so glad I wasted all that money on those damn patches! What can I say? I'm a weak person with no will power. Now, let me light a smoke and we'll continue.)

I'm a little skeptical when it comes to psychiatrists in general because I believe they have no desire to actually help their patients. They just want them to keep talking so they can keep charging them a zillion dollars an hour. However, since I'm poor and can't afford one of those fancy shmancy scam artists, my doctor sent me to The Crazy Doctor. The Crazy Doctor works at the hospital so my visits are covered by our beloved health care system and I don't have to pay for anything. (God bless Canada and Tommy Douglas for creating our health care system. Also, God bless Tommy Douglas for giving us Kiefer Sutherland, but that's a whole other story.) So I have a little more faith that The Crazy Doctor may actually try to help me since there's no extra money in it to not help me.

Anyway, it turns out that The Crazy Doctor is a woman. A young, pretty blonde woman. My first thought was: "What is she? Twelve years old?" But after looking at her more closely, she's not as young as she originally seemed. She's either my age or not much older. Or she's much older and looks damn good for her age! She seems nice but, to tell you the truth, I don't know if she likes me very much. I wonder if that's a sign that you're truly crazy when you worry that your shrink doesn't like you. I mean, my life is pretty damn boring. I wonder if she actually pays attention when I talk or if her mind wanders off to what she's going to eat for dinner for that night. Hell, sometimes when I'm talking, I start to think about what's on tv that night.

I've only met with her twice so far, only for half an hour both times. I'm not sure but I think maybe she has her own practice and works at the hospital only a few days a week. I have 4 more appointments scheduled with her, two weeks apart between each one. We haven't really got into any heavy discussions yet because the first appointment was her basically asking about me and the 2nd appointment was sort of a follow-up. The one thing she did mention to me? Apparently I'm angry at my mother for dying. (???) Uh, ok. I guess that could be true. (???) I'm certainly angry at her for giving me her hereditary big thighs! But isn't everybody angry at their mother for one reason or another? Maybe everybody in the world needs a shrink.

In any case, that's where I'm at right now in terms of my visits with The Crazy Doctor. My next appointment is on June 28th so, until then, I'll just keep chain smoking while being angry at my dead mother. (???)