I Heart My New Doc

Like I mentioned before, this morning I had my appointment for a physical. I actually chose my new doctor last year when I switched over to my job's insurance company, but just never set a date to go.

Well can I start by saying how great it was?! Not only was I called in within five minutes, but the assistant was nice and took my blood painlessly (because I'm tiny, my veins are hard to find; I've been jabbed repeatedly in the past and on one occasion a pediatrician needed to be called in).

And the doctor herself was just so calm and sweet and wanted to get to the bottom of my eating situation. She even surprised me by being Latina (I couldn't tell from the last name) and by speaking Spanglish! She explained everything, asked questions and patiently listened to me. I'm used to being rushed out of the doctor's office before I even have the time to express all my concerns. No, this one actually encouraged me to say everything I needed to say.

Now here's the thing: she also believes that I'm anorexic and that clinically speaking if you're underweight, you're anorexic. She then said that if we rule out any physical reason for my not eating enough that then I'm going to have to figure out what to do next. She said for some people going to therapy alone isn't enough to control their anxiety levels (which blocks my appetite). But I still said no to taking meds.

I was on antidepressants last year for roughly four months. My previous doctor (who I still think is the worse) was the prescription-happy type who had me taking four different pills at one point. Lexapro? Check. Claritin? Check. Multivitamin? Check. Prevacid? Check. I had to get a pillbox at the age of 25 for crying out loud! And when I said I wanted to get off the antidepressants and was concerned about any withdrawal effects, she said my dosage was so low I could just stop taking them whenever. What. A. Liar. I was so sick for a straight week with an incessant headache and no energy whatsoever. I don't remember how I felt exactly while I was on them. I know there were some side effects. But when I think about taking pills again, how I felt after I stopped taking them is still fresh in my mind and I never want to feel like that again.

So we'll see what happens next. She agreed with T, but I guess it's all in the delivery. I didn't self-combust when I stepped on the scale either. I'm at roughly 80 pounds right now and the goal is to get me to 100. I also learned that just consuming calories isn't going to make me gain weight - especially not if I substitute a meal with an Ensure. I need more fatty foods like bacon and eggs while constantly snacking in between three full meals a day. Oh, and these freezing hands of mine? Raynaud's, baby!

So do you guys have a love/hate relationship with your doctor? Any horror stories?