You guys? I'm a little nervous.
I have a blind date this morning. I found him on the Internet (I can't say "met," as we haven't technically gotten to that point yet).
I've showered. I even shaved my legs just in case things reach a point where he'd be seeing them - I mean, I highly doubt it, since it's my first time meeting him and all, but you can never be too prepared.*
*Plus my leg hair was getting so long that my pant legs were starting to feel tight. Or maybe that's the result of too many Girl Scout cookies? Well, whatever.
I have makeup on. My hair looks decent. I'm wearing an outfit that doesn't scream "SOMEBODY'S MOM." ... Okay, maybe it does. But it's the best I could do.
I hope I smell all right (and that I manged to pluck all my rogue chin hairs) because he's going to be getting reeeeeally close to me. And, like, touching me. If I like him, that is. And I hope I do. I hope we hit it off, and that he's everything I want and need.
Because y'all? Choosing a doctor is freaking HARD.
Yes: this blind date is technically an appointment. With a family practice doctor. This probably wouldn't be a big deal to most people, but I never go to the doctor. Like, ever. In fact, outside of a fertility specialist and then an OB/GYN for my pregnancies, I haven't had a checkup in probably fifteen years. And the last time I went to any doctor, at all, was my follow-up appointment with the gynecologist after Corbin's birth ... two and a half years ago.
I take my kids to every well-child visit and get them in to see the pediatrician when they're sick. Some months, I feel like I practically live in his office. And yet when it comes to my own health, I've always followed an (admittedly flawed) "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" mentality.
I turn thirty-five this year. I'm a responsible adult. (For the most part.) And when we are responsible adults, we must do things that utterly suck ass, like subject ourselves to regular physical examinations. Plus? I have kind of a scary family health history.
My great-grandmother had uterine cancer.
My grandmother had cancer of the lymph nodes.
My mother had breast cancer.
My father died of lung cancer.
Are you sensing a theme here? And that's just the direct parental lineage. As much as I hope that the same fate doesn't befall me, I have to be realistic about my chances. And I've got four boys counting on me (and a husband who would shrink all the laundry and put the dishes away in the wrong places if ever I wasn't here).
Anyway, point is, I need to start hauling the ol' bod in for a checkup once in a while. Make sure things are running as smoothly as I think they are. And I hope to find a doctor I'm comfortable enough to ask WHY FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I KEEP GROWING A BEARD.
What about you? Do you go to the doctor regularly or just when it's an absolute necessity?