What if No One's Watching?

Another weird and unpleasant and highly medicalized day. I ought to know better than to have doctor's appointments two days in a row.

Today wasn't anything big--a meet and greet appointment to establish care with a new primary care physician. I liked her OK, though my impression of her was quite a bit diminished by having to wait for nearly an hour for her to show up in the examining room (thank God I had a book). She listened to what I told her and asked questions that made sense, was friendly and not pushy. But that didn't change the part where I got on the scale and weighed way more than I ought to. A number that has moved solidly out of "modertely overweight" and into "obese." And the kicker? Digital scale. On the old style scale at my old doctor I could always round down. In reality, I weighed exactly as much as I knew I weighed, but for some reason seeing it in digital stung. To her credit, the new doc had the sense not to mention my weight upon our first meeting.

Other than that, it just did what doctor's appointments always do--reminded me that there is a lot of crap wrong with me. I know I shouldn't complain--there are a lot of people who are sick in real, dangerous ways, and I am just sick in constantly annoying ways. But the constant influx of bullshit with which my body insists I deal doesn't go away just because I know I'm lucky. The allergies. The plantar faciitis. Now the skin bullshit. The depression. The not always happy cervix. The fucking allergies. It's trying.

Making things even worse, I just totaled up the costs of all of the prescriptions I am now supposed to fill. Even with insurance, it's over $100/month if I take everything (which I likely won't). And once again, I know my situation is much better than many people's, but that doesn't lessen the frustration.

Man. Fuck this day.