Warning: If you are offended by bad language, please don’t read this post. You’ve been warned!
I’ve had a problem with my heel for a few weeks and what I suspected was an ear infection for a couple of weeks, but I’ve avoided going to the doctors because I hate it. I never used to be doctor-phobic, but the last 3 years have really put me off. Every time I put my head round the door I get stabbed with multiple needles, which have also become a new found phobia.
I explained the problem with my heel and the positions that were painful and the response was, “But why would you want to do that?”. I explained that it was quite a normal thing to want to do in both Karate and Yoga, but this didn’t seem to register. So the rough translation of her solution was, stop doing silly things for a few months and it will be OK. I have very little faith in GPs where mechanical issues are concerned, so I guess I will have to pay to see someone to have it looked at properly.
As far as the ear goes, it turns out I have an infection in both ears, not just the one. I think I got this from the swimming pool as it ties in nicely with me trying to resurrect my daily swimming routine.
At this point things took a turn for the worst. First she decided to take my blood pressure. As soon as she did this I knew what was coming next, so of course my heart rate and blood pressure spiked. Next I got a polite “telling off”, which is more embarrassing than getting shouted at, for not having any recent blood tests. My new found fear of needles is rather unfortunate since as soon as someone approaches me with one I get a massive adrenaline rush, resulting in mild shakes, severe sweating and a minor case of Tourette Syndrome. Even worse than looking like an idiot and swearing a lot, this causes my veins to collapse as soon as a needle hits them.
First attempt in the left arm was a complete failure. Big vein disappears as the needle goes in. Even a bit of wiggling and in-out movement of the needle, accompanied by me saying, “For f*cks sake!”, didn’t help. Second attempt was the back of the left hand. Can’t remember what swearing accompanied this attempt, but it was another complete failure. To diffuse the situation we had a little break, which involved me getting weighed to confirm that I truly am as fat as I look. Then it was on to attempt 3. Right arm this time. Big vein disappears completely as soon as the needle hits it. I now decided that enough was enough and was just about to say, “You put another f*ckin’ needle in me and I will kill you, your family and any f*cker that has ever met you!”, when some blood started to come out. I figure the decision to start a killing spree calmed me down enough to let the blood flow. 
The doctor then started to fill in her notes and in passing said, “Have you been depressed at all recently?” You know how some questions provoke a little monologue in your head? In my head I said,
“You’ve told me I’m fat, but of the three forms of exercise I do, two have knackered by heel and one has given me an ear infection. Then you turn me into a human pin-cushion and suggest I come more often for blood tests. Depressed? I’ll give you f*ckin’ depressed!”
Of course my actual answer was,
“No”
I really, really, really don’t want to go back to the doctor again…. Ever…
Cheers
Tim…
PS. I made sure the doctor was fully aware the I was not verbally abusing her, but having a little freak out about the repeated stabbing. She’s actually really nice.