Have you ever been felt up by your doctor? If you haven't, I highly recommend it. Even if it's for legitimate reasons, somewhere in your head you will say "This is so COOL, this doctor is totally into me!"
My Babcia has been on rat poison for about three years now. Her leg was supremely swollen so we took her to the doctors and then straight to the hospital to kill the shit out of the blood clod that was threatening to navigate its way into critical organs. It was probably the worst thing that has ever happened to her life. More so than the death of her husband, the loss of her farm, what has affected her the most is the weekly blood test to make sure that her rat poison is doing what it's supposed to. It's also affected her immediate family and generally consumed the lives of everyone who has ever loved her.
So, when my left leg presented itself as somewhat more voluptuous than my right leg, I made the terrifying leap of visiting a German doctor for the first time. He noted the swelling and then left the room and came back with a needle and two options. One, you can go to the hospital, but you will wait forever; or Two, I can inject you with Heparin to make sure that if there is a clot, we can dissolve it then and there. I went with the shot, which stung like a son of a bitch, and instructions to come back the next day for an ultrasound of my leg.
Next day, new Doctor. He asks me expose my leg, so naturally I pull UP my pant leg only to be met with a "This won't work, perhaps you take your pants off?" Like, right there. The modesty towel never appeared. Thank CHRIST it was laundry day and I had nice underwear on. Double points actually, because I was also in a good wife mood and had shaved the hairs that were still on my legs as a memento from Canada. Anyway, there I was, face down on his little hospitalish bed, ass out, when he describes, with his fingers, how the veins start out large right under your butt cheek, and then get tiny tiny tiny as they run down to your ankle. I don't even remember if he said I had a blood clot or not. Moral of the story, cultural differences ROCK!
And if you are genuinely curious as to whether I'm going to be alright or not, I don't know. I did some blood work and am waiting for the results. My left leg was one and a half centimetres larger than the right, which could be concerning. That said, my left breast is bigger than my right, and I've never looked into that before. Hmm, maybe I should?!
My Babcia has been on rat poison for about three years now. Her leg was supremely swollen so we took her to the doctors and then straight to the hospital to kill the shit out of the blood clod that was threatening to navigate its way into critical organs. It was probably the worst thing that has ever happened to her life. More so than the death of her husband, the loss of her farm, what has affected her the most is the weekly blood test to make sure that her rat poison is doing what it's supposed to. It's also affected her immediate family and generally consumed the lives of everyone who has ever loved her.
So, when my left leg presented itself as somewhat more voluptuous than my right leg, I made the terrifying leap of visiting a German doctor for the first time. He noted the swelling and then left the room and came back with a needle and two options. One, you can go to the hospital, but you will wait forever; or Two, I can inject you with Heparin to make sure that if there is a clot, we can dissolve it then and there. I went with the shot, which stung like a son of a bitch, and instructions to come back the next day for an ultrasound of my leg.
Next day, new Doctor. He asks me expose my leg, so naturally I pull UP my pant leg only to be met with a "This won't work, perhaps you take your pants off?" Like, right there. The modesty towel never appeared. Thank CHRIST it was laundry day and I had nice underwear on. Double points actually, because I was also in a good wife mood and had shaved the hairs that were still on my legs as a memento from Canada. Anyway, there I was, face down on his little hospitalish bed, ass out, when he describes, with his fingers, how the veins start out large right under your butt cheek, and then get tiny tiny tiny as they run down to your ankle. I don't even remember if he said I had a blood clot or not. Moral of the story, cultural differences ROCK!
And if you are genuinely curious as to whether I'm going to be alright or not, I don't know. I did some blood work and am waiting for the results. My left leg was one and a half centimetres larger than the right, which could be concerning. That said, my left breast is bigger than my right, and I've never looked into that before. Hmm, maybe I should?!
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