I'm no good at confrontation, so you can imagine how I am at addressing wrongdoings in relationships, or worse, ending them altogether.
In middle school — or maybe it was early high school — I had a "boyfriend" named James. I use the term "boyfriend" loosely because we hung out like a couple times in group settings and he mostly just made fun of me (totally different from my relationships nowadays, of course).
Anyhow, a friend of mine ended the relationship for me, telling him I wasn't ready to commit. Totally accurate assessment. But also a totally accurate example of how I'm a complete failure at communication.
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This is the part where I say I've grown up a lot since then. But instead, I'll admit I've completely ignored guys I've dated instead of just telling them I wasn't interested. I'm horrible at ending relationships, even with those who aren't very nice to me.
Though I probably have a bad reputation among certain circles, I'm not (intentionally) a bad person. I'm just incredibly awkward and a social coward.
So you can imagine my latest dilemma in trying to end a relationship…with my doctor.
I've been with my primary care physician a couple of years now. At first, I basked in the honeymoon phase with her. She listened to me, helped me with illnesses, and I thought she was genuinely a good doctor and person.
Lately, though, our relationship hasn't been the same. For one thing, she's been distant. Too distant.
When I say "lately," I mean months.
Without going into too much detail about my issues, I've seen her multiple times in the past month. I've been on many medications, been hospitalized, endured multiple tests –and each time, been put on the backburner. My vitals have been off for five months now, and she has expressed how worried she is. But it's been a classic case of treating the symptoms and not the illness (whatever that might be).
Worse, she has a very bad case of absentmindedness. Usually prompt, she—and the entire office—began to misplace files, prescribed medications I was already using and forgot to give me test results and follow-ups calls.
After my doctor recently "forgot" to call with results—or "thought she already called" to tell me I needed to go the hospital that very day — I was seething.
But when she did call me back and apologized, my response was "That's OK! I'm totally fine with it!," which was the opposite of how I really felt.
It's funny the kind of commitment one can feel to her doctor. It's a relationship based on secrets and privacy and important things, but it's also hard to recognize — at least for me — when things start to wrong.
After weeks of runarounds, no resolutions and unavailability, I finally began to realize, though, that I deserved — and needed — better.
I've since seen a new doctor who has a plan mapped out and I have follow-up appointments on the books. Most of all, she really listened to me. I'm not saying she may be "the one" forever, but for now, it feels right.
Oh, and the best part? All I had to do was sign a waiver in order for my old doctor to release all my forms to the new one. A third party was able to handle the breakup talk for me. I guess old habits really do die hard.
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