Falling in Love Again
Stamped: October 19th, 2005 | Toggle Similar
Tagged: secret crush of the week, self flagellation.
I know I am not alone in this. Recently, I have been seeking professional help. OK, a lot of professional help. You name it, I've tried it: physical therapy for the foot, homeopathy for the insomnia, acupunture for the stress. With the same zealousness once reserved for finding a decent roommate, I have been interviewing therapists. The thing I realized is this. It is very easy to fall in love with your health care provider. They take good care of you, they seem like they really have their shit together, and they know just how to handle you. It's like they possess some kind of magic power and then you just start feeling better. Well, that's how it works for me anyway.
The first time I realized this was when I was making soup and chopped off part of my finger. After rushing myself to ER at 10PM on a Monday night, the doctor finally saw me around 2 AM. With great fondness I still remember the cool blue of his eyes, how he gently told me to look away when he injected my finger with so much anesthesia it swelled up like a ballon, and with what care he adminstered 8 perfect stitches. I was only sorry I couldn'tfind reason to return to him more often. Alas, it has been many years since I have had to visit that ER.
Now, I rate only about a "2″ on the Kinsey scale, but since I prefer my health care practioners to be women, this means I am falling for a lot of women these days. Take, for example, my physical therapist: an Amazonian blonde with a husky voice and a penchant for comfortable clogs. The painful massage and impossible exercises aside, I look forward to seeing her every week, her deep voice asking me, "does it hurt when I do this?" and her complete confidence that she can make me feel better. Then there is the acupuncturist who frequently asks about my bowel movements, offers obscure Chinese remedies, and for whom I simply and obediently respond when she commands me to "lie down." Finally, there is the homeopath whom I've only seen once, but who conducted the most thorough interview I've had since I appied for the FBI. In fact, so impressed was I, that I immediately went home and started researching how I, too, could become a homeopath.
None of these are cheap dates, mind you. And the homeopath did say that she could not predict what would happen if I continued to see both the acupuncturist and her. Oh, they are a jealous lot! And I am having a hard time keeping all our meetings straight. But for the time being, I am ready and willing to swoon for each and every one of them.
Last 5 posts by Casey
- Sugar - February 23rd, 2007
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- A debate yet to be debated - June 30th, 2006
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- There's No Place Like Home - March 22nd, 2006
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Comments
I agree! The best relationship I ever had was with the male nurse who shot me full of morphine when I was rolling over in pain in the ER at 2am. I can still see his beautiful shiny blond hair and amazingly blue scrubs. *Sigh*
I had a crush on my female gynocologist in college. We used to laugh about how men can get yeast infections too.
With the exception of a lesbian physio-therapist I once had, it’s not been my fortune to have these kinds of relationships. In fact, the one I most clearly remember was with Ol’ Doc Sprague - and I remember it because I’m still scarred.
It was my first prostate exam. I had no idea what was going on except people said you needed them to be on the safe side and so on. So he tells me to drop my pants while placing his hand in a rubber glove, then dipping that glove in some kind of goo.
Well, I need not go on except to say Ol’ Doc Sprague, who looked like that Rumpole of the Bailey guy, had fingers like freakin’ sausages and I damn near crapped all over the room!
I’ve been traumatized ever since. This may be what has prevented me from having the kind of fulfulling relationships others have had with care providers.
true story: the first time i dislocated my shoulder in highschool, the resident that that re-set it was a one hot piece of ass…and i would have TOTALLY hit that, had i not been completely mortified by the fact that my reaction to the pain wasn’t crying, or screaming, but was projectile vomiting up all over him.
i ran into him a few years later at a bar, just before i left for the states. i recognized him immediately, but he couldn’t put his finger on exactly where he had met me before…so i put my embarrassment aside and totally made out with him. that was definitely a healing experience for my fragile, damaged ego.
Men can get yeast infections too?
Lexie: Did you ever wonder if he remembered who you were later, and maybe it instilled some deep-seated psychological disfunction in him, and now he can only perform with girls if they throw up on him first? Why would you do that to the poor guy?
as far as i know, he never did figure it out - he dated a friend of mine for a while, and always used to ask how i was doing over here and that he ‘never could quite place me’.
i guess he lucked out.