My heart races. No, not right at this moment but at times. Not like wow that guy is hot heart-racing or I can’t believe I did that many lunges racing but more like a really fast beating that occurs randomly and at the weirdest times. Not that sitting in a parking lot waiting for my friend to buy her stupid eyelash glue (when I have perfectly good stuff at my house a BLOCK away) isn’t a heart-race inducing moment or anything. Hypothetically speaking of course.
Anyway, this has happened for a long time; ever since I was about 12. I went to my (white, male, elderly) doctor about it on several occasions. The first prognosis was that I was expending my energy too much. Dude I’m 12, I’m going to run around and scream like a banshee or whatever it is that 12 year olds do.
I saw him about it again when I was 16. He had me take off my shirt and do jumping jacks in his office to see if it was brought on by exercise. Ya, because jumping up and down in a BRA for two minutes is going to prove anything. The remedy to my heart problem this time? Swallow ice. (I know, right? Can I please see your credentials. On second thought I don’t even want to know.)
Meanwhile my younger sister had a throat infection and he made her take her pants off. Presumably to “feel her glands”. Now I’m no doctor but I’m pretty sure that when you have a throat infection you feel the glands in your throat! Call me old-fashioned.
When my sister and I mentioned this dispairingly to our father, he went to my mother (a nurse)and said: “I really don’t think this guy should be practicing medicine. At least not on my children”. To which my mother replied “I was IN the room with them”. Okay, that’s true but still; he was creepy.
Thankfully Dr. Boobie-Feeler retired, and my doctor is now female. Oh and it turns out that I have mild asthma. Something my old doctor managed to miss despite the fact that I live in a city known for being prone to asthmatics, despite the fact that I complained of my lungs hurting, despite the fact that my heart races (it’s just working extra hard to get blood to the lungs – thanks for that buddy) and despite the fact that my older sister has asthma. Where exactly did this guy go to school? Remind me to never go there.
Now where the hell did I put my bloody cigarettes?