thigh bone is connected to anywhere it hurts

I went to see my doctor this morning.  Going to the doctor makes me scared.  He always has to take my pulse twice, once at the start of the appointment and once at the end after the anxiety peaks so he can assure himself that I do not actually have a heart condition.  I have no idea why I am so scared of doctors; I have never had anything but nice doctors.  The doctor here, in particular, is very kind.

Actually I did have a problem with a doctor once, though I'm not sure it should really be categorized as a problem.  More just a strange situation.  Because I have been a mostly-very-healthy person, I wasn't terribly proactive about getting a new doctor once after moving to a new city.  In that new city I auditioned for a play that was already in production and became an understudy for the part of a sexually aggressive crazy girl (ahh, typecasting) whose primary role was to make out recklessly with the pianist.  Because it was already in production, I watched the show a couple of times to learn my part and had no rehearsals.  I did end up having to fill in a couple of times.  I was a great kisser.

Anyway, back to the doctor's office.  I had no regular doctor and so I did the yellow-pages thing and found someone close to where I was living.  I just wanted my birth control prescription refilled.  So this doctor seemed nice enough, and vaguely familiar which was weird because I hardly knew anyone in this city being so new.  He chatted with me during the exam about my life, the small-talk distraction kind of talk that doctors do, and I mentioned that I was understudying in a play.  He asked more questions, a theatre enthusiast apparently.

Or an actor.  Hah.  He was the pianist.  I had made out with my doctor.  Very very very weird.  (It occurs to me only now how rare a thing it is to meet an actor/doctor.  But I did not live up to my crazy and sexually aggressive character; I never went back to see that doctor again.)

I don't think this is why my heart races when I go to the doctor though.  The chances of this happening twice are very slim.  I hardly ever make out with  strangers anymore.


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Shawn is coming out of retirement.  He got hired yesterday, and the job starts in a week.  I'm glad this period of unemployment was so short, not really even long enough for him to morph back into a teenager.  Last night in bed while I was fiddling around with some idiotic game on my phone I looked over at him reading an enormous book and thought, Who are we?  I have a week left in my grad program and I cannot remember how to read anything that isn't a journal article, peer reviewed and written within the last seven years.  I have traded in my books for a little game where stick men chase me and I pick them up and throw them.  And Shawn, apparently, now reads gigantic novels.  Turn turn turn.


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