On the surface, it was simply routine; my annual checkup. The form might have been revised; I filled out current symptoms – everything from migraines to fatigue – checking a fair amount of items on the list.
Once my gynecologist entered, we chatted briefly. Then, she reviewed my check marks, confirming the severity of each chosen item, skipping around as one health concern led to another, including family history of diabetes, cancer, and the like. Mentally, I was ticking off the points I wanted to remember, interjecting questions that I had as a layman in this medical office atmosphere.
Before long, her eyes back down on the list, she looked up and asked, “How many firearms do you have in your house?”
Thankfully, I was not struck dumb. Rather, the adrenaline began to flow at top speed. Looking straight into her eyes, I asked, “What the hell does that possibly have to do with any of this conversation? My husband doesn’t own any firearms. What’s your point?”
“Have you always been sort of a Type A personality?” she broached…
“My baby book states that I walked on my own at nine months. What does THAT tell you?”
She quickly changed the subject, but not before I continued saying my peace (or piece, pun intended, because I let go with both barrels!!)
“Doctor, this is not the country I grew up in. I know where that line of inquiry is coming from; I am aware of the so-called, protective, nanny-state ordinance that recently passed on behalf of protecting our children and grandchildren. I have no grandchildren as yet, but I absolutely refuse to acquiesce to such scrutiny now or in the future. Furthermore, my husband lost everything years ago, his guns included. If I were able, I would replace each and every one he used to own. “
Not that she had much choice after that soapbox rant, but apparently, this naturalized physician with the lovely Australian accent heard me! She never handed me another form or brought up the subject ever again.
I was definitely my father’s daughter – Type A and however many red-white-and-blue political genes we shared.