waiting + tmi.

so began the adventure to the doctor's - i had high hopes going in

 About a month and a half ago, I woke up with a cold sore on the inside of my lip. Oh I know, it's totally gross. The only people I told, in fact, were my roommates (I find it necessary to tell my roommates everything) and my dad.  Who, upon seeing the inside of my lip, made a face that conveyed a message of oh my gosh how are you my daughter that's NASTY put it away.

After weeks of putting up with it, and trying all sorts of ointments, my lip got worse so I went to the doctor.  This had been the first time in a year and a half that I had gone to the doctor's office, and I had absolutely forgotten how terrible it was!  This is because growing up, my dad - although actively involved in his healthcare profession- ingrained in his children a "walk it off" mentality.  He grew up with 3 older brothers, and had 3 boys of his own until I popped out and thus his hand at nurturing was relatively new.

When I was little, my dad was ill-equipped to deal with my constant baby-girl whining and fragile body, and so the phrase “you’re fine, you don't need to cry” became the default. (A worthy pairing to my mom’s constant overreacting to every scrape and bruise. Her purse, as far as I knew, contained only a tube of lipstick, a wallet and seven thousand Bandaids.) They're a good pair. She carefully placed the bandaid on and kissed the wound, and he ripped it off when I was least expecting it. 

So now, I tend to think that my body can heal it self.

For a while, when I was in high school, my family didn’t have health insurance and I learned to get by without visiting the doctor. Oh, I didn’t learn to be careful. I just used duct tape to keep broken toes together, drank powdered Vitamin C for everything and discerned which websites will give you a somewhat accurate diagnosis and which ones will just tell you that you have AIDS.

Let's get something straight: when your doctor's appointment is at 2:30, it's unrealistic to expect to actually see the doctor anywhere close to that time.  You must sit in the waiting room.  There's no chance of not waiting, they made a whole room for it.  It's like, all the doctor's are back in their little rooms all thinking to each other, "well we can't take anyone back here now, that would be wasting the room!"   So you sit there, you've got your fishing magazine or some outdated, ripped version of Highlights For Kids!, but you're only pretending to read it while really looking at other people wondering what they've got.  And let me tell you, everytime my name is called, I'm so tempted to look around at the other people.  For one, I'm excited because my young, naive mind thinks I'm going to actually see the doctor momentarily. For another, I want to say something along the lines of, "Well, I've been chosen. I'll see you all later."

boredom ensued quickly after leaving the waiting room

Then you remember - you've just been moved into a smaller waiting room.  My first visit with a doctor moved rather quickly - I think I only had time to send 3 or 4 snap chats (tip: don't ever send snap chats from a doctor's office. you WILL be asked, "whos's the father?? " "do you have aids?" or a simple "what's wrong?", at which time you actually have to tell people what you're in for. that was my low point.)  After examining my lip for a while, the doctor said, "This baffles me, I've NEVER seen anything like this before!" whilst trying to come up with a subtle way to ask me if I had a significant other that I was "active" with (I'm not entirely sure what that means)? Or maybe I just play the trombone? No doc, I've just got a weird thing on my lip that even you don't know what to make of it.

being turned away for having "trombone lip"

She sent me on my way to see another doctor - one that would hopefully know what to make of my lip.  And let me tell you, after waiting 2 hours to see him, I had high expectations. After all, I can only refresh instagram and read the same "WARNING: If you think you are pregnant ..." sign so many times.  He came in, didn't say much other than "Sorry, we had an emergency - a little boy's nose would not stop bleeding after he stabbed himself with a pen."  First of all, I knew the story because I was in the waiting room with him and his mother. Trust me, I knew the story.  Second, confidentiality?? Like, what was he going to do, go to the next room after he was done with me and say, "Sorry, I was held up by a girl with a nasty herpe on her lip and it was so gross it took me so long to take care of." Not cool.

However, after he examined it, he simply cut it off.  Like, took clippers to my lip.  And it was gone. I could have had one of my roommates do that to me months ago (right girls?? I think I could have gotten one of them to do it...probably the same one that took my blood right at our kitchen table because we were bored on a Sunday afternoon). 

post-doctor's visits. with nothing but a prick to show?? also, it looks like i'm wearing glitter eye liner. I'M NOT I don't know what that is.

 In other news, FELIZ CINCO DE MAYO!  Yesterday, we went to a park with chips, salsa and sangria (virgin, duh) in hand and had ourselves a little fiesta.  Complete with cousin cuddling time and some vintage basketball shorts.  Mexican Independence Day brings out the crazy in us...?

And we ended the fiesta with a newly installed weekly tradition! 

Jk I'm not sure it will ever happen again.  But it was really fun, and I would totally trust this girl to take my blood any day.

All in all, here's to medical procedures and a post that lasted too long on issues that may induce nausea.