I sit in my family doc's exam room. Well, sort of sit. I'm avoiding my left side altogether. It's less than 36 hours after my I&D and I'm feeling weak, tired, ineffectual. In retrospect, I had no idea HOW poorly. My doc enters into the room and the smile fades from his face. His change in demeanor should have clued me in. He exams me and I know what needs to happen. I just need to hear him confirm it. I need some reassurance that I'm not just being a wimp. Throughout everything with my brother, my dad, my son....I could always remain objective. I could split my psyche and remain clinically cold and objective. I was Atlas. But not with myself. I am afraid of being weak. Of being a failure. Of not being strong enough to get to work. I lose all objectivity. It's one thing to need time off for a dying relative. But it's a failure of self to need it for one's own self. I emotionally need him to validate what in my head I already know.
"I need vanc, cefepime and flagyl, don't I?"
"Yeah. Yeah, you do. You need to go to the ER."
"I was just there. Can't I sleep in my own bed and go in the morning."
His look says it all. "No. Now."