My One Thing

Do one thing every day that scares you. – Eleanor Roosevelt

I have group therapy tomorrow. I was supposed to call my gynecologist to get an appointment scheduled before group was set to meet again. I made that call. Apparently, my gynecologist doesn’t take Humana. Now I have to find a gynecologist that accepts both Humana AND Medicaid, which will be fun. I’ll also have to get a referral from the family doctor, so I’ll have to call and schedule one of those ridiculous appointments that solely exists so that patients can get referrals and the doctors can get money for seeing the patients.

I will have to make another call for that, which will take time for me to work up to, especially with me knowing that, in the end, I’ll end up with a new doctor who won’t understand how difficult this whole pelvic exam, pap smear, etc. stuff is.  (Sorry for the run-on sentence.) I really don’t want to have to explain to some stranger that he or she will have to knock me out to do a routine exam. I don’t want to have to explain to a stranger that birth control pills and I don’t mix, but that I don’t want to go ahead and have a hysterectomy or ablation just to end the heavy periods. (I would like to get over the anxiety enough so that one day I could actually meet someone, get married, and have a kid.)

I really don’t want to make any calls or see any new doctors. I don’t like change, but it is something I promised to do and it is something I need to do. Well, now I’m more nervous than I was before and I really don’t want to make the stupid calls.

About Janet Morris

I'm from Huntsville, Alabama. I've got as many college credits as a doctorate candidate, and the GPA of some of them, too. I have a boss by the name of Amy Pond. She's a dachshund. My parents both grew up in Alabama.