Corner of Bourbon & Division

Night shift today, thus marking the halfway point of my work week.

I ended up leaving work early yesterday and spending the rest of the afternoon and evening curled up under blankets with a lot of chamomile tea, as I felt like utter crap. Luckily, whatever gastro-type bug this was decided that three days of unpleasantness was enough, and so far today I feel fine. *knocks on wood*

Perhaps my body remembered that I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon for the first time in... I don't actually remember how long. Quebec being what it is, after my last gp died, I had no gp at all and no way to get one. A CLSC in Quebec will help you get a gp if you're pregnant or have just given birth, or if you have some sort of long-term illness, or if you've just been discharged from the hospital after a serious illness or surgery. Since none of these apply to me, I had a snowball's chance in hell of ever getting a doctor.

Now that I'm covered under OHIP (Ontario medicare), I looked around for a gp and lo, I got one on the very first try. So in an hour and a half I shall actually be talking with an honest-to-goodness doctor about some of my health concerns. I very much hope that she turns out to be one of those doctors who actually listens and isn't simply trying to get all her patients through the door as quickly as possible. My previous gp was a guy I inherited from my parents (metaphorically speaking), and he was a bit of a misogynistic tool whose answer to everything was that I needed to lose weight. Migraines? I should drop a few pounds. Anaemia? I should do something about that belly fat. Bipolar disorder? Maybe I wouldn't be as crazy if I was a size eight. Okay, I'm exaggerating for effect, but it was a lot like that. He was constantly vexed to find that my blood pressure was just fine, that I had no incipient diabetes, that my knees weren't suffering, that I was basically a very healthy fat person. I think he wanted to find something wrong with me that he could attribute to my being obese, but he never did. My health problems stubbornly refused to be linked to my weight, all my life. Or else he would treat me like I was neurotic and had no basis for any of my concerns.

Actually, I guess what I'm hoping for is a doctor who won't dismiss everything I say or railroad me about my weight. I do have concerns about my weight, but it's more that I've been gaining weight rapidly lately with no reasonable explanation for how quickly it's happening. There's also the fatigue, the splitting nails, the hair loss (that's a lot of fun, let me tell you—good thing I have lots of it to spare for the moment), and last but certainly not least, the memory problems.

I will confess to being worried that I'm going to be told it's not due to anything, that it just sucks to be me and that I need to sleep more and be less stressed (neither of which is going to happen—I get as much sleep as my schedule & lifestyle will allow, and my current stress levels are about as good as they're going to get).

On that note, I need to cut this short. I have just enough time for a shower before I need to get cracking for this appointment. See you on the flip side!