Dr Compassion signed my sick note for two more weeks and is happy to carry on doing that. Two weeks, not a month? He wants to keep an eye on my emotional state. Yes, once again I got the sad-puppy-dog look and, "how are you?" and once again there were the tears. I don't know why it happens with him, when anyone else asks how I am I don't cry, they get the truth, but I don't cry. I think it's because I associate that chair in that room and that concerned face with my pregnancy and all the problems I had during it.
He worries that I'm not sleeping but no thank you, no more sleeping pills, he tentatively mentions antidepressants and seems relieved when I refuse. I tell him I'm going to see a counsellor on monday (yes, finally) and he seems pleased. I'm so glad my regular doctor wasn't available that one day and I was given an appointment with him by default.
We sent off a swab to make sure that the strep b is under control (I think it's gone I hope it's gone it must be gone) and he gave me the choice of taking the swab myself or letting him do it. Ummm... let me see... I went off to the toilet and swished that long cotton bud around feeling like a medical professional, well no not really but feeling glad someone else wasn't getting access to my ladyparts. He's never been there, I think it might change our relationship. I've got enough of that particular sharing experience coming up in two weeks time when I will be back at the hospital exposing said ladyparts to the world once again... well, no, maybe not the world but it surely feels like it sometimes.