I just had a super weird appointment at Kaiser. My regular doctor is out on maternity leave, so in her place, I got this hippie nurse practitioner who talked at length about his dreams and his girlfriend, with whom he is madly in love, apparently. After suggesting I might have Irritable Bowel Syndrome from all the stress he assumed I have in my life, he said that I might benefit from intensive psychotherapy, as seven years with his analyst had cleared his IBS right up.
Apropos of me saying that while I do tend to express my tension in freaky nightmares, he described a dream in which “anal Swiss movers” boxed up all his things very neatly, with labels and such. Eight months later he was forced to switch offices, a fact he used to prove that his dream had been prophetic. He then said that if I wanted the results of my bloodwork I’d have to call the lab myself, as he heads home at 4:30 these days because he loves his girlfriend so much. He had very long eyebrows and nose hairs, and cold hands.
It was a pretty entertaining appointment, if a little scattered. When you are expecting medico-corporate professionalism, a guy with long gray hair and a faint eau du B.O. kind of throws you off. He applauded my ingestion of an herb mixture in 2006 (made by a farmer friend) that had cleared up a UTI, a response that was surprising in its lack of nose-wrinkling, which is my GP’s usual reaction to anything holistic or not prescription-oriented.
The appointment ended with him telling me to go get my bloodwork done and to schedule an ultrasound (he think I have a kidney stone, too). He then swept out the door, and I wandered the halls for several minutes until another nurse found me, placed my urine sample baggie in my hand (they make you carry it yourself! doesn’t it seem like there should be pneumatic tubes for that?), and told me which floors to head to for the rest of my tests.
So, I’m confused. I appreciated having a long talk with a doctor who asked questions and thought about my responses instead of rushing me out the door. It was, however, kind of uncomfortable having him share his own experiences. I am glad that he loves his girlfriend, especially since it is hard for me to imagine anyone with eyebrow dandruff giving or receiving love. But I’m looking forward to my ultrasound on Friday, because it will give me straight answers and not be wearing a Cosby sweater.