So today I saw the lady who is covering for my normal GP while she is on holiday. While I wouldn’t say I’m the world’s biggest fan of my GP after the battle I had to fight for a diagnosis, I do like her, and there is something remotely comforting about the familiarity of seeing the same person every time you go in to talk about your “female problems” (which, for me, has probably been on at least a bi-monthly basis for the past 12 months).
This “cover doctor” (is that what you call them?! I’m not sure what you call them! You can tell I’m a teacher!! ‘If there’s somebody doing someone else’s job while they’re absent they must be a cover blah blah because the lady teaching my classes while I’m off is a cover teacher.’) Anyway, the queen of digressions has digressed again!
Where were we?
A petite, white-haired woman at least in her early 60s, who turned out to be the bolshiest (is that even a word?! Well, it is now, I’ve decided!) Swedish woman I’d ever met (and, believe it or not, I have met quite a few Swedish women in my time!)
I sat down, a little petrified, and also sweating from the crazy hot flushes that seem to be plaguing my otherwise “young” body at the moment (that’s what everybody keeps saying to me, y’know, “Oh you’re young, you’ll get through this no problem!” Like that isn’t annoying in the slightest…). I was worried for the following reasons
- It wasn’t my normal doctor and I really didn’t want to explain everything all over again.
- I was worried about being told to take more time off work when I want to be there, and I miss it, and I miss my colleagues, and I miss my kids (and the list goes on and on and on….despite the fact I tell aforementioned kids to never ever use ‘and’ more than once in the same sentence!)
- I have severe social anxiety anyway (yeah, I know, hilarious for a teacher!!) and am always incredibly self-critical and conscious of what people are thinking about me… or, rather, what I think people are thinking about me, because, contrary to what my brain tells me a lot, I am not a mind reader! Funnily enough, this anxiety only kicks in when I’m around adults… never children!
With these things in mind, I take you back to little old me, with my huge tummy, sitting, sweating profusely, on a little red plastic chair, in front of Swedish-cover-doctor-lady.
I opened my mouth and uttered the words, “12 days ago I had a laparoscopy with excision of endometriosis, as well as a…”
She stopped me there.
Not so much as interrupted me, but stopped my speil.
“Oh my darling, you are nowhere near ready to go back to work yet… 12 days…. zis is serious surgery my dear. Let me look at ze notes.”
(I am aware here that in typing her accent I could be seen to be partaking in a little cultural appropriation, but I am not, this is exactly how she sounded, and it was unexpectedly comforting for me!)
Cover doctor studied the letter sent by Dr Busby (remember, my amazing, wonderful, brilliant, miracle-worker of a gynaecologist?!) (That sounded sarcastic… it’s not meant to be, I do literally worship this woman!).
She then asked me to lay down on the bed.
“I vill examine at your tummy.”
As it turns out, she didn’t really need to…. the moment I pulled my dress up there was a sharp intake of breath and cover doctor said,
“Oh my goodness, my poor darling, no you are not healed, you must rest, you must sleep, you must get better.”
It would have been comical if it wasn’t so disturbingly true.
She did examine me. I just wanted to clarify that – so you all know Swedish cover doctor is doing her job properly!
She also took my temperature and was really not impressed! Apparently it was “borderline” and I have to monitor it very closely as I could be developing an infection.
Oh the joys!
She explained to me that while my external wounds may look small, my internal wounds are not and that I had had major surgery and should not take that lightly.
Suitably dressed down and actually also feeling a little relieved, I left with a sick note for a further two weeks.
I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about this, but I know I must take the doctor’s advice. I can’t afford to make myself worse by not recovering and healing properly, as I most certainly don’t want more surgery and more time off work (especially when I’m in a job I love so much!)
So, my lovely, ever-growing list of followers… Please promise me something…
Promise me you will make sure I rest properly and take time to heal?
I am rubbish at sitting around, sleeping, resting, doing pretty much nothing, but that is what I need to do. If I am to get better, I need to listen to my body rather than my mind for once.
Now… how do I go about relaxing?!