A Girl and her GI

This blog post is inspired by my Dad, who I had copied on an email to my GI, to which my Dad replied, “Nothing like the exchanges between a girl and her GI... maybe a new line of Hallmark cards”. The thought made me laugh out loud - so very true.

There are a few essential things in life - food, water... a GI. But not any GI, a good GI. I had a theory for a long time that in order to be a GI, you had to be  butthead. No one explained to my 12 year old self why I had to drop my pants for an anal exam when they said go, it seemed invasive and private and so completely abnormal. I desperately wanted someone to sit me down and say, “Jennie, this is weird and different and this is why it is important to your health....”, but no one in a white coat ever did. 

When I was a little girl in elementary school and would walk by the staff room, I always thought that students should be able to enter since we also worked there. Similarly, when it comes to the hospital, it is second nature, a second home. I used to think - before I was sick - that being in the hospital was the worst of the worst. But now, it’s just so mundane and ordinary. A friend laughed at me this morning at my casualness in saying that I’d been in the hospital this past week with yet another obstruction. I work through my homework and my life from the hospital bed, in between blood pressure checking and watching television before bed. 

This last time in the hospital, I was completely uninterested in their theories and thoughts, I’m headed for surgery in the next month and that’s all I care about, nothing is going to stop me. And yet, these doctors insisted that I was wrong, wouldn’t let it go, and I couldn’t decipher the reason, if not just to make me suffer it out and ‘put me in my place’. As kindly as I could, I tried to tell them that I didn’t care what they thought because I knew my body, but they could have cared less. It’s times like these when I count my lucky stars for my amazing and gentle GI, who’ll call at 9 PM to see how I’m doing and even text me. Sometimes I can feel all alone when medical personnel (not including nurses) seem to alienate me. It makes having that great connection with a doctor all the more crucial, someone who gets you and understands you and will fight for you.

Everyone deserves a person. And everyone deserves a good GI. It’s your right, and never forget that.

Jennie