For Nothing

I don't handle pelvic exams well. Sometimes I'm fine. The lucky times. The rest of the time, reactions can include panic attacks, hives, or crying. For hours afterward, I still feel the violation. 

I knew I couldn't avoid having a pelvic exam the next time I went to the doctor. Because of this, I avoided going to the doctor. That isn't rational, I know, but our reactions to fear aren't rational.

Then we got this letter from the post office saying they would remove the mailbox from our porch and put it out by the street. This causes any number of issues. For one thing, it requires us to put up a mailbox. This isn't an easy thing for disabled people. For another, it means we have to get out there TO said mailbox, which increases in difficulty depending on the weather.

We were given a form to fill out if we wanted to continue to receive mail at our door. It requires a medical provider's statement and signature. 

So I KNEW I had to make an appointment. I knew I couldn't avoid the pelvic exam if I went. I also knew that if I just dropped the form by her office, it might take days for her to have the time to fill it out. 

Now understand, as much as I wanted to avoid the pelvic exam, I actually wanted to avoid playing the 'fill out the form' chase even more. That could lead to days and days of stress and annoyance. That sounded like hell, a far longer hell than the alternative. So I made the appointment.

And every single day before that appointment, I was scared. I dreaded it. I dreaded it so much and I would have to talk myself off the edge and force myself NOT to think about it. And when the stress would get too much, I would remind myself that as much as I hated the idea of enduring the exam, at least the whole mailbox ordeal would be overwith and out of my hands. 

So I went to the appointment. I endured what happened there. I got the signature I needed. 

My roommate talked to the mail carrier. She said it was basically useless to fill out the form because they never really let anyone keep their box. He tells me this and then has to run an errand. I sit there and stew in my anger over the fact that I just dealt with this exam and it was useless....but then I soothed myself by realizing that even if it doesn't work, the annoyance of the paperwork is over and at least I didn't have to play chase with my doctor.

Today we took the form to the post office and they tell us it isn't enough. There were supposed to be some other forms with the one they sent. These forms need to be filled out and oh guess what!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?

There. Is. Another. Formal. Medical. Statement. That. Needs. To. Be. Given. To. My. Medical. Provider. 

I did not want the pelvic exam. I knew I couldn't avoid it if I went into the office. But I went into the office and lived through that because more than anything more than anything I wanted to avoid playing chase with some fucking form.

But no.

We took the form to the clinic. I have to call back tomorrow to remind them we did this because of course my doctor isn't even IN THE OFFICE today. At the earliest, I can, perhaps, get the form on Friday. 

But probably not. I'll probably have to call again. And again. AND AGAIN. And come off as some nag. And come off as some stupid person who didn't have the proper forms. And the one thing in the world that I wanted LESS than someone's fingers inside me is now the thing I will have to deal with for probably days. 

All for nothing, because they almost never actually grant the thing I'm asking for.