I don’t like going to the doctor. I dislike the full spectrum of the healthcare experience from the receptionist who talks like she eats her own jerk face, to the Family Circle magazines, to kids coughing their pathogenic droplets all about the waiting room. Needless to say, I will try to tough out any ailment I can at home.
I am aware that patient education is a portion of the healthcare spectrum. Sometimes though, I wish it were a little subjective. It just seems like, despite legality issues, when alone in that exam room, the doctor could just keep it real.
UTI or Urinary Tract Infection is probably pretty familiar to the ladies. You, know with our short urethra that has an affinity for attracting bacteria and supporting our decision to watch reality TV shows about wedding dresses. You may know first hand that each voiding feels like you angered a nest of fire ants…with your genitals.
Men, are more fortunate in this area being that their urethra is much longer than the female urethra. The bacteria has much further to travel before they reach the bladder, ingest bath salts, party their ass off and leave you with a bladder infection.
That being established, most women know when they have a bladder infection. It’s painfully obvious, literally. So, you go to the doctor, and supply a specimen for testing.
The doctor returns to tell you what you probably already know. I understand there’s a first time for everything and maybe the patient is not fully aware what’s going on. I’ve only had three of these in my life and the first time I thought I would go into renal failure and be on dialysis for life. Imagine my relief when I only needed antibiotics (and perhaps less alcohol). My last UTI was only about a year ago, I presented my symptoms: blasphemous statements during urination (I’m so sorry baby Jesus). I knew the drill. I just wanted those magic pills to make my bladder rejoice.
Imagine my surprise when the doctor returned with the diagnosis (duh) and began patient education. She went on to actually tell me to wipe “front to back”. I wanted to stop her right there with, “What the fuck yo? You serious right now? Shut your mouth! What am I? Stupid?!” Here I am, at the time 27 years old, being told to wipe my poopsie correctly. She did the correct application underhanded wiping motion, I remember vividly.
The motion was mortifying and I could take no more. I had to interrupt and say “I know, thank you.” I’m sorry lady, I know this is your profession, and I know you’re probably required…but you’re embarrassing me. I suppose next thing she’ll tell me this is a bad idea…
I suppose stupidity is common enough that it’s really necessary to tell an adult something like this. Probably Nickelback fans…yeah I didn’t factor in that variable. My bad.