Why I Love My Gynecologist
It’s an awkward topic, I know. But I am so filled with love for her that I just have to share my thoughts. To me, she represents the ideal of what a doctor can be, and that’s pretty important. Especially because, for us women, our gynecologist is the doctor we see most in our lives. She is with us for the most important moments (the birth of our children), and looks out for us in ways we prefer not to think about too much.
Here’s why I love my gynecologist:
We talk. I don’t just talk to her, but she talks to me, too. We share personal information—like our kids’ potty-training issues—and, well, lots of other stuff. My doctor seems genuinely interested in me and my health, and listens to my often bizarre and controversial thoughts and questions. Really listens. Without judgment.
She makes me cry. I can tell my doc things that I would never tell anyone else (and that means all of you, too!). And the fact that she listens to me without judgment makes me tear up. If I am feeling overwhelmed with life, I’m not afraid to say it. And she sympathizes with me. She knows it’s not her job to fix it, but she listens anyway.
She makes me laugh. My second-favorite moment from the birth of my third child—which my doc performed as a C-section when she was eight months pregnant herself—was when she shouted out “can somebody get me a stool?!” Doc was too short and too pregnant to get a good grip on my baby Lucia. My favorite memory was when everyone broke into song, singing “Santa Lucia” as my daughter was being pulled out of me. Everyone sounded horribly out of tune but totally joyful, including me.
I make her laugh. Laughing is an important part of making awkward situations (one word: stirrups) less awkward. The fact that my doctor tells me she thinks I’m funny makes my day, and takes my mind off other things. You ladies know what I’m talking about.
She’s skeptical of the pharmaceutical solutions. This is big. My doctor doesn’t push pills on me, and in fact knows I’d rather avoid them and respects that. She asks me my opinion on what I’ve read and seen and doesn’t do that doctor “pooh-pooh, you don’t know what you are talking about” thing that I have seen lots of doctors do—or worse, the blank stare that says, “I have no idea of what you are talking about and frankly don’t care to know.”
And now I know you are dying to know who my doctor is, so you can have her as your doctor too. Sorry, I’m not telling, or I’ll never get an appointment with her again. It’s already hard enough to get one!
The reason I’m sharing is because I hope that one day every woman can have a doctor like mine. After all, gynecologists touch us quite a bit—physically and emotionally. It’s a pretty darn personal relationship, and it should be a good one. I think of all the women around the world who don’t have a doctor they can turn to, or who are afraid or ashamed to speak openly about their health issues, and I feel especially blessed. I just wish there were more doctors like her, so more women could feel as good as I do about going to their gynecologist.
Maybe one day. My doctor might be cynical about that. But I’m optimistic.