I have found out what process combines everything that makes me uncomfortable. Applying for life insurance. In general I don't like talking to people that I don't know well (yes, I am an anti-social snob), and when I have to answer very personal questions asked by these people, I get snappy, curt and just forgetful. I always think that these people who are just doing their jobs are judging me.
WHAT?! This woman can't remember the name of the doctor she saw once for strep throat last September? And she doesn't have the address of the clinic memorized? Well then, I can't see her lasting past the age of 29. Definitely not insurable, and on top of that, highly irresponsible.
She can't get enough pee in a cup for our tests even though she is hugely pregnant and we TOLD her to drink lots of water? Definitely a sign of chronic dehydration! Doesn't she care about her unborn child's life?
Seriously though, it was a yucky morning for me, and while Mr. Cool-With-Anyone-Chad didn't seem bothered one bit by having a stranger in our home taking our blood and urine and weighing us, I was ready to barf by the time she left. Wait, that was just because I drank at least 8 cups of water while she was here , to try and eek out enough liquid gold to satisfy her, and all that water was sloshing around in a completely empty stomach because we hadn't been allowed to eat since breakfast. Nausea City.
Here are some more highlights:
"Have you gained 10 lbs in the last year?" (Ugh, didn't we already discuss the whole knocked-up thing? I wish it was ONLY ten lbs)
"Have you been hospitalized in the last 5 years?" (That little guy flicking my license at me is 5 and the one coming down the stairs with a bat in his hands is 2.)
Saying the wrong name for my doctor, even though I saw her less than two weeks ago, forcing the lady to sigh and break-out the white-out to correct my mistake.
Admitting that I don't have a primary care physician (seriously though, when you have been pregnant three times in 5 1/2 years, isn't that enough doctor-visiting?)
Yeah, so I know I am a little hypersensitive about this kind of junk, and I know that probably says something about me, but I'm not going to sweat it too much. We all deserve to have some weird insecurities, right?
Oh, and by the way, I had to use the restroom 5 times in the hour after she left. Just thought you would like to know.
