Whilst searching for a new doctor I felt out of practice and resistant to change. I wasn't excited about finding out if I clicked with a new doctor. I missed my comfortable routine at my previous clinic. My old doctor knew my migraine history and I knew what to expect from him. Alas, my old doctor kicked me to the curb. (Perhaps I'm being too harsh on him. He moved out of the area for a different job opportunity. To keep in line with my post-divorce dating analogy I'm going to go with it.)
My cousin recommended a new pain clinic, so I initiated the process of getting a referral there. (My aunt and another cousin had set me up on a date with a tall, handsome fellow several years ago, after my divorce, and I ended up marrying the guy. So far the family had a good track record of giving recommendations.)
After going through the referral rigamarole, I was accepted at the new clinic and the day of my first appointment finally arrived. As I waited for the nurse to call my name I sat in the lobby with mixed emotions. I was wondering if the people at this clinic were as nice as the people at my last clinic. Another part of me was excited and hopeful at the prospect that this might be the start of a successful relationship. Ideally, the doctor would have some new treatment ideas that my previous doctor and I had not yet considered.
The nurse called me back to start the appointment and off I went. She immediately made me give her a urine sample. What the hell? I guess they wanted to make sure I wasn't a drug-seeking narcotics user. Jeez, where's the trust these days? (Maybe it is no different than Googling a date's name to see what dirt you can find out about them?)
When the doctor came in he, understandably, had a lot of questions. Squeezing 20 years of migraine medical history into an initial consultation is a daunting task. (Similarly, it's like going on a first date, except date questions are much more fun. "What's your sign?" "Do you like to ski?" "What movies do you like?" And, when you're on a date you can order up a cocktail and appetizers, and that somehow makes the whole question & answer deal less grueling.)
While the doctor fired off questions I was busy multi-tasking by answering questions and trying to get a read on him so I could decide if we clicked. After the seemingly never-ending question & answer session the doctor enthusiastically declared, "You're a pure migraineur!" (I got lost in my own thoughts for a few seconds after he said that. Pure migraineur, eh? Pure is usually a positive adjective, but I wasn't feeling that pure followed by the word migraineur was a good thing. Sure, some things are best in a pure form. Pure vanilla extract is usually better than imitation vanilla. 100% pure cotton is, in my opinion, better than a cotton/poly blend. So what was the deal with pure in my situation? I guess it means I am an authentic, perfect, flawless migraineur. Yay me. I'm competitive by nature and strive to give 100% in any endeavor I undertake. I guess it is appropriate (or ironic) that I'm considered a pure migraineur.) The smile on the doctor's face quickly dissipated and he said that being a pure migraineur is probably not considered to be a good thing, but it was uncommon because he didn't see many people with chronic daily migraines without other health issues.
All in all it was a successful doctor appointment. I felt like he listened to me and we came up with a treatment plan that I am looking forward to starting. Perhaps I was being a drama queen about this appointment from the very beginning.
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