Dr: Do you have kids?
Dr: Are you married?
Me: (in my head) What the hell does this have to do with anything?)
Me: (out loud) Yes.
Dr: (moments later) Have you had kids?
Dr: Any pregnancies?
I considered explaining my situation, but the guy’s a chiropractor for God’s sake and he has my file right there, so I let it go. A few minutes later I’m standing with my pants around my ankles getting a back x-ray.
X-ray Tech: Are you pregnant?
X-ray Tech: Is there any chance you could be pregnant?
X-ray Tech: When was your last period?
Me: (gives her the date)
Short pause while she does the math.
X-ray Tech: Ok, I’m going to hang a plate in front of you to protect your ovaries.
Me: (in my mind) Don’t waste your time; they’re already fried.)
Me: (out loud) OK.
So, maybe I was a surly patient. I chalk it up to my bad back. But sometimes I don’t feel like explaining why I don’t have children, not even to my doctor.
It’s Whiny Wednesday. I’m cranky about doctors; what’s under your skin this week?