Thursday, November 08, 2007

Pulling In For A Pit Stop

I suspect I'm like a lot of women. I generally go in for my yearly pap and mammogram when my beloved Gyno Girl sends me a reminder. I pop in to the cheapo well clinic at the strip mall when I get pneumonia or break something. I see my dentist twice a year and the optometrist for my contact lens renewal every January. However, when these folks hand me that form that has a blank space for me to write down my primary care physician, I have no idea what to write.

My last physical was my premarital exam twenty years ago. I mean if the car is running, why take it to the mechanic? If it ain't broke, why fix it? Right? Right? Here's the thing. I really don't want to just break down on the side of the road one day. "Sorry, Mr. Poppet, her carburetor's shot. I'd say it's time to trade 'er in for a new one." A new one? Fat chance! My Spouse is stuck with me. So! It's off to see the new lady doctor for a lube and tune and hopefully complete blood work.

You know how when your car makes that weird noise and does that funny pulling thing? And you know how when you try to explain what's going on to the mechanic he just drives it around the block and says there's nothing wrong? And you know how you want to argue with him and tell him to try again and maybe try something else because the car is messed up? And you know how you end up driving away exasperated only to have the car drop dead a week later on the expressway with two screaming kids and a dog and melting groceries in the back? And you know how at that moment you really, really hate that mechanic? Yeah, well I hope my visit with the new doctor isn't like that.

Today I give thanks for reliable transportation and a father who believed his daughter should learn basic auto maintenance.