Doctors note

 I pull up to the doctor's office and it looks the same as it always does. The speciality care sign is sticking out to remind me why I'm here. I am told the same thing every time but maybe this time it will be different. Sitting in the waiting room is always the worst part. There's nothing else to think about except for why you are there. I can feel the nerves bubbling up but there's nothing there to stop it. 

It is like this every time. 

Walking back to the room is like muscle memory to me. The nurse explained how I have to fill out a symptom survey to see how I’m doing. I can remember the questions like they are my name. And I know my answers without even seeing the choices. 

“I can do my favorite things without pain” Disagree. The results always come back the same but maybe this time it will be better. 

The doctor comes into the room and starts with the normal doctor appointment routine. Listens to my heart and lungs with the cold stethoscope, looks in my eyes with the light to make sure I don't have any side effects from my condition or medicine, presses on my stomach with her cold hands to make sure there's no pain. Then here's the worst part. She moves to my joints starting at my hands. Going up each finger, feeling and bending each joint to try and see if there is any pain and swelling. There always is. The pain goes through each finger but I can’t do anything about it. After my hands she does the same thing to my knees. Pressing on the spot at the bottom of my knee that is swollen, waiting to see my reaction, for me to pull away or flinch. Waiting for the pain and when that reaction does come she moves on. Moving to my hips and ankles. Getting the same reaction with each new movement. After all this, we finally get to the part we want to hear. Is it getting better? 

But the answer this time is the same as last time.

 “There’s slow improvement but still not at the ideal place.” The next parts are a blur to me. I get lost in my thoughts while the doctor talks about other medications I can try on top of the one I am already on. I agree with what my mom says because I’m not listening and what she says is always the right choice. I have to wait for the doctor and my mom to stop talking so I dream about the day when the doctor will say it’s finally getting better. 

Maybe next time. 

“Just keep taking your medicine and with this new one on top it should help you. I’ll see you in 3 months.”

Hopefully next time she will tell me see you in 6 months. But for now I'll be back in 3 months. 

Maybe next time it will be better.