But Late Last Night In The Pharmacy You Were In The Line In Front Of Me So I Ran Away To Hide

When I was released from the hospital after my ill-fated bachelorette party, I was still dazed and confused. I didn't speak to any doctors; I managed to mumble a thank you to one of the nurses who gave me a pair of slippers so I didn't have to attempt to wear my heels, and shuffled my way out of there. When I woke up the next day, I had a lot of questions. Questions that were best left unanswered by Google. I decided to make an appointment with my doctor to talk about what happened. Basically I was just looking for reassurance that my brain wasn't going to melt because I had (unknowingly!) ingested a drug that was possibly made using drain cleaner.

After bouncing between doctors for awhile, I have been going to the same doctor for the last three years. She's an older lady who I have always liked. She's efficient and blunt but never uncaring. She's a no-bullshit type of lady.

After spilling out my story, barely holding in the tears, my doctor said to me, "Well obviously you were just in an overly drunken state." Words that cut me to my core. The tears that I had managed to keep at bay resurfaced and I sat there blubbering. My doctor went from being an efficient doctor to an unfeeling robot with that sentence. I choked out the fact that I didn't think I was just drunk, as I'd had more to drink on previous occasions and not been that affected (which I know isn't necessarily a valid argument but what I was trying to say was that I know my body. I know what it feels like to be drunk. I even know what it feels like to pass out from being drunk - and no I am not proud.) To which she replied, "Well that's something you need to get in check." With that sentence she went from unfeeling robot to cold-hearted bitch.

Here's the thing: she was not examining current symptoms. I wasn't drunk at the time. We were talking about an incident that had occurred 3 nights previously. She did not see me the night of the bachelorette party. She did not speak to the doctors or nurses who treated me that night. The hospital records were not sent to her office for her review. She had no facts regarding that night. She judged me. On a personal level. That, in a doctor, is completely unforgivable. I didn't go to see her for sympathy. I didn't expect her to pity me or to hold my hand. I expected her to give me information and perhaps be empathetic while doing so.

What really chaps my ass about the situation is that she was so dismissive. Does she really think that I would have been taken to the hospital in an ambulance, were I just someone who had had too much to drink? (K had to pay $50 for an ambulance ride she was given to the hospital after having an allergic reaction to a bee sting. I was not charged for mine.) Once arriving at the hospital, wouldn't they have just let me sleep it off? Or pumped my stomach? (Okay I'm basing that on television so maybe I'm being wildly inaccurate here, but I assume that when you drink too much your stomach needs to be pumped. Is that correct? Anyone?) Would the doctors have told me and my friends that I was drugged? Would the police have filed a report? Would the police have followed up on that report twice? Does this not seem like a whole lot of people to be wasting their time on someone who "obviously was just in an overly drunken state."?

My doctor sent me for a blood test and told me that she would call me with the results (though I don't know what she was testing for.) That was three months ago. I haven't heard a word from her.

I left that appointment feeling worse than when I went in. It sounds silly, but her attitude toward me was almost worse than being drugged. The person who drugged me was unknown to me. An asshole, sure, but not someone who I trusted. Three years isn't a long time to be seeing a doctor, but when you're allowing your doctor access to your lady bits, you sort of feel a certain relationship with them no matter how long you've been seeing them. Being judged so harshly by my doctor made me afraid to contact the police. I was convinced that they would blame me for what happened, as my doctor so clearly did. I realize that it's unfair, but I was expecting my doctor to be empathetic because she is a woman and the police to be jerks because they are male (and hey, that in itself is stupid and unfair because one of the police officers who took my statement was a woman.) I'm glad that I did contact the police because reporting the drugging gave me a bit of my control back. It enabled me to make a choice. I chose to contact the police and they were wonderful to me. They came to my home. They reported the incident. They asked me what I wanted to see happen. They provided the number for Victim Services (which I never used, but it was still comforting to have.) They took me seriously, which honestly is what I needed after the experience with my doctor.

I didn't write about my doctor after it happened because I felt so fragile (that sounds so wanky but it's how I felt.) I couldn't think about it without crying. I didn't know how to write about it. So I tried to forget about it. Which worked for a while. But now I need a prescription refilled. Something the pharmacy won't do without a new prescription. Which means that I either a: have to go back to my doctor - something I'm not sure I can do, b: find a new doctor, or c: go to a walk-in clinic. I don't like any of my choices.

I know I'm being a bit of a baby, but I really don't want to go back to my doctor. I feel really hostile toward her. I hate being judged unfairly. I have no respect left for her as a doctor. I feel like she was extremely unprofessional in her handling of the situation and she no longer deserves my respect.

I cannot be bothered to find a new doctor. The search is a hassle. Meeting a new doctor is a hassle. Going through the initial speculum awkwardness with a new doctor is stressful (will they warm it up? use water-based lube? yes, I do over-think things.) I don't want to deal with it.

So I'm left with the walk-in clinic. I really dislike the walk-in clinic by my office though; whenever I've gone I've waited at least half an hour to see a doctor. Who has that kind of time to waste waiting for a doctor, reading crappy magazines and picking up germs? Seriously.

I have a few weeks before I need a plan of action but the impending deadline is causing me a bit of stress. I will likely suck it up and just go to my doctor because that seems to be the easiest route to take. Emotionally I feel like it's the most damaging though, so we'll see. Maybe I'll stop being a baby and it won't be a problem.