Oh, so let’s talk about doctors. The medical kind. The human medical kind. The ones that specialize in knowing us better than we know ourselves. Those folks who constantly wash their hands and and like to ask “does this hurt?”

I’m 53, so I have seen my fair share. General practitioners, endocrinologists, gynecologists, psychiatrists, neurologists, orthopedic surgeons, chiropractors, oncologists, ophthalmologists, rheumatologists, back doctors, pain management specialists and Eastern Medicine doctors. I think my favorite category is the Eastern Medicine specialists, aka acupuncturists. Yep, my all time record for acupuncture needles in one session was 44. I slept so well that night, awwwww.

I’m not a huge fan of the occupation because I know exactly what they are going to say during the appointment. “Annie, you have a brain tumor.” No one has yet said these words but any day now I know that they will. So I guess it’s understandable that I tend to have severe anxiety about the time of my appointment, and that’s on the good days. The bad days are a full blown panic attack in the examination room and I storm out before they can tell me that I have a brain tumor.

It’s only when I see the humanity in the doctor I feel heard and hopeful. And, after 53 years of walking on this planet, hope is amazing, inspiring and dare I say- healing.


E.T. Aka Annie