Doctor's appointment today - further proving that I am indeed my father's daughter (and my grandmother's granddaughter - just in case there was any doubt, which there wasn't).  I am exhibiting all the classic symptoms of anxiety disorder - I go over and over things in my head so much that I can't sleep and I get headaches and otherwise unnecessary stress.  The doctor prescribed me the exact some kind of medication that he prescribed my dad.  At first, I thought he'd give me an anti-depressant (that's was the first option he mentioned, at least), but then he said we'd try this other anxiety medication that I take as I need it.  It's supposed to help me sleep better, which should take care of all my other problems.

The good news is that I realize that all this stress doesn't make any sense, especially not at 3:00 in the morning.  When I wake up, I recognize that there is nothing I can do about anything I'm stressed out about, yet I continue to stress.  It's a sign that I don't have depression, so I guess that's why he ruled out the anti-depressant.  In any case, I feel better that there's a clinical reason for this mess and that it can be treated.  Obviously, it's a genetic thing (Dad has it, Grandma had it, my children - if I ever have them - will likely have it.  Oh happy day...) Mom says she doesn't get us because she thinks she ought to be more stressed than the rest of us are, but she can easily relax about things, where Dad and I spaz out over some pretty simple things and take things to extremes.  Just add that to the list of things that I'm jealous of my mom over (right after she has a higher metabolism and never gains any weight -_-')

In other news, I stopped by the dentist's office after the doctor and asked if he'd filled the receptionist position I applied for yet.  He was in with a patient, but the lady at the front desk said he'd been meaning to call me, so that's good news.  He's supposed to be calling me today, so I hope he doesn't forget (my sister that used to work for him said he's a little scatterbrained and forgets stuff).

And my branch president just now called me and asked to meet with me tonight at 7:00 because they're going to extend a calling to me.  Don't know what, but I guess we'll find out.

I'm also trying to find out what the hiring requirements are for a school librarian in the State of Utah.  I've called several different places looking for that information, but I don't really understand what they're saying.  Some states require you to have a teaching certificate, which I do not have.  I heard that Utah just requires an MLS plus a state endorsement, which I'll have an MLS when I'm done with my program, but I don't know how to go about getting a state endorsement or what that even is.  I don't even know if that's true or not - that's what I'm trying to find out, but no one will give me a satisfying answer *headdesk*  I guess I just need to make a bigger pest of myself, which I hate doing. (And now I'm back to my original anxiety problem.  I can't win, can I?)
I had my dentist and doctor checkups for my mission yesterday.  Yeah, that was a fun day...

Actually, I expected the dentist visit to be worse, simply because every time I go to the dentist, they find some catatrosphic problem that involves breaking bone and ripping tissue and me going home with a fat face.  But this time, they just did a nice teeth cleaning, took about twenty x-rays and sent me off with a toothbrush and a free sample of dental floss.  Well, I do have to go back in so they can fill a tiny cavity, but it was better than I expected.

Then I had to go to the doctor for the physical.  For some reason, it didn't register that they needed to do a complete physical, which means getting stuck with all manner of sharp, pointy objects.  My right arm got stuck with a grand total of four needles: a finger prick, a tetanus shot, a TB test and they had to draw blood.

Now, I hate medical needles.  Hate, hate, hate, hate, HATE!  I've always squirmed when it came time to get shots.  I've never even given blood (the thought of sitting there for 10 minutes with this needle in my arm... *jibbilies*).  I've had one fairly major surgery, but they almost couldn't do it because they couldn't get the IV in my arm because I had tensed up so badly (don't show me the thing before you stick me, morons).  In fact, one of the best days of my life was in 8th grade when the health department had come to give everyone a booster shot, but they told me I didn't need it because I had gotten updated somewhere along the way that I didn't remember (I really didn't care at the time - anything to offset the impending panic).

But now, they tell me I have to get my series of Hepatitis A and Hepatitis B, which equals to about five shots.  Okay, fine, they can do it -- only if I get a sucker at the end.

I don't know what I'll tell my kids (when I have them) when I take them into get their shots:

My kids: Mommy, is this gonna hurt?

Me: (grimacing the whole time) Um... no... no... it's not...

My kids: ...

Me: (sobbing) I'll take you to Disneyland after!

The stupid thing is that I don't mind sewing needles.  I guess if I accidentally stick myself while I'm sewing, I take the needle right out.  I just don't like it when a stranger is coming at me with a syringe and I have no way to know how long it's going be in my arm.

And it doesn't help that I keep having these visions of this really old, ugly, mean nurse that gave me my kindergarten shot and I freaked out when she tried to give it to me.  And that she was totally unsympathetic when she pulled me back and said "Look, you made it bleed."

And now my arm is sore.

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jenny_wildcat

December 2011

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