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I hate going to the doctor. This hate is not fear related because I honestly don’t believe they can tell me anything I don’t already know, or at least haven’t pondered. It’s the poking, the prodding, the closeness, and of course, the judgement, that bothers the hell out of me. It’s the all-knowing eyes, psuedo-empathetic head nods, and deep sighs that piss me off.

When I go to the doctor’s office, I am usually aloof and reserved. I may even be cold. And it’s very intentional. I’m not a sharer in general (I know, I know. I’m a blogger.), but I’m definitely not into sharing the most intimate details of my body–what it’s doing, how it’s doing it, etc. It’s overwhelming and it’s too much. View Post