I went to my ‘chick’ doctor today, to get some things clarified, and also hoping for some peace of mind.
Women, you know what I mean. For those of you who have a male GP, most of you will feel it necessary to also have a female doctor, for you know, female things.
Hence the chick doctor.
I was a little unsure/worried about some stuff. So when I asked my chick doctor today, and she said with a blasé expression on her face “I’m really not excited by that,” I can’t tell you how happy I was.
I was grateful for her confidence and assuredness in the situation. But I was also made so much more grateful for the nothingness of it all, when hours later I discovered a former work colleague had been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer a year ago.
In fact, I was pretty fucking devastated.
I don’t like this cancer shit. It’s really scary. Because of the prevalence of it, striking every Tom, Dick and Nancy, I feel like life is one big mine-field, and you just don’t know if the next place you step will be the cancer bomb – it may get your foot, your head, your skin… hey if you step on a nasty one it will fuck you up all over. Some may get out of the minefield alright, if they haven’t stepped on a bad one. Others will not be so lucky.
I had these troubling thoughts going through my mind as I went to my chick doctor today. I don’t know, but since having some heavy stuff happen a few years back, I feel more fearful. I’m still that glass half-full gal, but I’m realistic. I’ve changed. I’m still hopeful, but I’m scared too.
To hear my chick doctor say she wasn’t excited, was music to my ears. I’m grateful to her, not just for today, but for being a great doctor.
I hope she’s right.
As for my friend, she’s doing ok. She’s amazing. I hate to reference gratefulness in the wake of someone else’s pain, but it’s times like this when you can’t help but be thankful for your chick doctor’s lack of excitement.