Am I that Cynical?

Okay, I have been trying to figure out how to write this next post for the past week.  I have tried to introduce you into the way I think and act because of the experiences I have endured.  I have just had an experience that will illustrate for you how I think during a conversation.  The conversation is going to be in Bold print and then I will given you my point of view and what I am thinking after. I hate it when an interaction sticks in my craw because I feel I did it wrong, maybe by the end of this writing I will have some answers, but I doubt it..  So here it goes.

I went to see Dr. Vogal last week for my 2 week check up.  This time my Mother was sick and she didn't want to go, but I convinced her it would be the last time for a while.  It was a late appointment and we started off in plenty of time.  We got stuck by a huge set of trucks painting the lines in the road.  Here there is no alternate route.  You can't get off the road and choose another way.  We were stuck, but things started moving and Mom with her lead foot got us back on track until we hit another set of trucks.  We were both angry and frustrated.  I noticed we would be quite late for my appointment.  We finally got to the office and I found myself to be one of the last patients, so his office was nearly empty.  I was called by the nurse.  She did the prep work and then I sat in the exam room waiting for Dr. Vogal.

The walls between exam rooms are quite thin and I have to admit that I was curious how Dr. Vogal treated his other patients.  I happen to know that the patient next door was another Dr because I heard his name called before me.  They had deep voices and they were speaking Dr. language to one another.  I was kind of surprise at hoe much time Vogal was spending with him.  He had me waiting for much longer than usual, but then he spent more time with me too, so I guess that is a perk of being last.  When Vogal final came into the exam room he said.

"Rebecca Peck, the legend."- Vogal

I was taken aback when he said that to me.  Me, a nickname that wasn't insulting.  It isn't what I am used to.  I didn't know how to take it.  I should have been gracious, but I questioned him instead.  By the way he had said the same flattering words right before the pain of the laser surgery, bu I figured he s saying it to calm me down.  He wasn't really complimenting me.

"Is that what you really think about me?"- Me

That was part blurt and part wanting to know.  I was surprised I felt that comfortable to ask him.  Any other Dr. and I would have passed it off with a small smile of acknowledgment.

"Of course I mean that."- Vogal

I now know after thinking about the conversation for a while that I pushed a button.  The problem is my terrible immaturity that bites me in the butt.  I am in my 30's, but I have had almost no dealings with the male gender.  I am stuck at fourteen when it comes to being appropriate with men and we all know how smart they are.  I often wish I had a person to flick me on the nose when I say something stupid, maybe then I would learn.

"I bet you say that to all your patients."- Me

I had a good reason for saying this.  I pushed Vogal's button again, but he doesn't know what I have gone through with Doctors.  He has know idea my baggage, but you get to read it.

I had one other Doctor I liked before Vogal.  It was my plastic surgeon Dr. C.  He was in a fancy upscale office with snobby nurses & receptionists.  I never believed I would get so sick after my surgery. Dr. C became my only lifeline after I lost my job, insurance and original Dr.  I was seeing Dr. C every couple of weeks so he could drain the fluid from me out of a pocket in my stomach.  I wasn't spending money on my visits because this was a complication of the surgery.  I remembered all of our conversations.  I knew about his son.  I knew about his wife.  I knew birthdays.  I knew all of this because I listen and pay attention more than I speak.  I thought the Dr. knew me and we were more than  acquaintances, but I was so wrong.  I arrived early to my appointment and had to wait longer.  I saw Dr. C interacting with his other patients and it dawned on me.  How the Doctor acts with me is how he acts with everyone.  He knew me because of the chart he got from the nurse every visit.  I knocked myself on the head.  Of course that's the way he acts with everyone.  That is how Dr. C has a successful practice in a highly competitive field.

Now. Whenever I have gone to Dr. Vogal office before this visit, people have been 3 deep in the waiting room.  I know he is busy and his visits to me are quick and professional.  I overheard the receptionist say, "We had 160 patients yesterday, 185 patients today and are expecting 225 tomorrow."  Now that is an office with 10 Doctors in it, so why would Dr. Vogal remember me?  He has such a high turn over.  He has a nurse bringing him the chart with my name on it.  I don't expect him to have any concern or liking of me past being my Doctor.

"Are you really that cynical?"- Vogal

Okay, that question threw me for a loop.  I do not believe that I am cynical.  That word is someone who is bitter and negative, both qualities that I have struggled to overcome.  The word cynical felt very wrong to me.  Unfortunately, I could not come up with the proper word in the short beat you are allowed in a conversation.  I am so slow on the uptake!  It drives me nuts, so I responded with...

"Half cynical and half joking."- Me

Two things you need to understand about me.  These two things I have only recently discovered about myself.

1.  I can not lie.  It has taken me so long to realize that I am physically unable to lie.  It is like being a live version of Pinocchio, except he lied and you saw the effect on him.  I am unable to lie.  It is a struggle for me to know what to say to the simple question, "How are you?"  Most people say "Fine."  But for me as I got sicker I would answer "Awful."  It wasn't to get attention or to have people ask about my troubles.  It was the simple truth.  I've learned that a good portion of the people I am acquainted with don't want to know the truth and so that means I don't talk very much, unless I feel comfortable with the person I am in a conversation with.  The thing is I will tell you anything if you ask me a question and that's how Dr. Vogal got me.  He turned to me and asked a direct question.  I was going to do my very best to answer him.  I felt tentative about being this honest to Dr. Vogal, but I am well aware that I can't help it.

2.  I am a realist.  I am so grateful to have finally figure this one out.  All through life people would say, " I'm an optimist.  I see the glass as half full, while you are a pessimist.  You see the glass half empty."  My parents are that way,  Dad can be a pessimist and Mom the optimist.  The more I watch the interaction the more I did not feel like I belonged in either category.  It wasn't until I heard a TV host talking and he called his guest an optimist.  The guest turned it around and ask what he was and the host said, "I'm a realist, Man."  What an A-Ha! explosion in my brain.  I am a realist.  I look at the tools, the time and the people and I formulate my game plan.  I come off critical and bossy even though that is not my intention.  I want others to be successful and I have the talent to see the upcoming pitfalls.

"Listen, I like you.  If I didn't like you, trust me, you would know."- Vogal

I understand that Vogal likes me, but how does that change anything,  Liking a person is actually quite traumatic for me because I have no idea what that means or what to do with the emotions.  Liking someone denotes to me a certain responsibility, an acquaintance can be passed off.  Dr. Vogal has become apart of my everyday life.  I have been seeing him every 2 weeks and now that we are stretching to 2 months, I admit I am going to miss our witty back and forth.


"I know you like me.  Its just that the Doctors before you have treated me like a little white lab rat.  I have a hard time."- Me

He laughed at the lab rat comment and the lighter mood return.  He told me my left eye was better.  I didn't believe him, but he has instruments.  I have noticed the blood has broken up.  When I wake up in the morning, I like to look at the white wall and see how the blood has changed.  There isn't anything else he can do for now.  If I don't get better it will be surgery in the hospital and I do not want that.

So I have been chewing on this piece of cud conversation wondering if all my thinking equals any progress.  I don't think so. If we were to have the conversation again.  I would say the same thing.  I really, really wish I was faster on the uptake.  Does that come with experience?