Doctor, who?

Last Thursday was a historic day that I and my close relatives have to remember: I decided to go to the doctor.

I hate doctors. It is not because of their fancy look or their white, clean coat. I just hate them very much!

I had to recall what happened four years ago when I had typhus – not yet the real typhus, just the symptoms of having typhus. I had felt the symptoms – strange fever, headache, and diarrhea - for a couple days before I actually went to see a doctor. I was so sure that I was alright. Finally, it appeared that I had serious typhus symptoms. Another story was when I had a cyst in my stomach. I’d had serious stomachache for a week before I decided to go to the doctor. I was sure that it was just gastroenteritis or other enteritis or diarrhea. It turned up to be a very serious cyst that has to be hormonal treated. Gosh!

Yet, I do seriously still hate doctors.

I reckon I could have been listed in the Guinness Book of World Record because during my four years in the Netherlands, I had just been to the doctor once; and it was because my uncle had made sure that he would chop me into pieces if I didn’t go to see a doctor. I had another serious stomachache then. Last year, I fell over from my bicycle in the early morning, Friday morning, when I was cycling to my work. My nose was bleeding. My head hit the ground. It was a total mess. Yet, as you may guess, I decided not to see a doctor.

I do still hate doctors; yet last Thursday was very special. I woke up that day with a saying in my heart: Nia, you go to the doctor! And I did.

So who is the doctor that could make me to come and see him? If you know me very well, you will think that this doctor must be very cute, with curly hair, nice smile, nice eyes, and talkative. Very wrong! It was not the male doctor that has persuaded me to get myself checked; yet it was my chest pain.

I forgot when it started, but I recently had a serious chest pain; I couldn’t easily breathe. First, I thought that it was just dusty weather conditions in Meulaboh; yet it was getting worse. One night, I couldn’t do anything, even talking; I just lied down and holding my chest.

This doctor is a doctor from a NGO called Operation Blessing, or in Indonesia we name it Obor Berkat Indonesia (OBI). When I arrived at OBI guest house, I was very nervous. I was still thinking that I might have made a mistake to go to the doctor. Finally, Doctor Yoni came.

Long story short, I was very relieved that Doctor Yoni didn’t do crazy things to my body. I was telling him my symptoms and what I have been feeling. He was a little bit confused, until he raised a question, “are you overstressed?” I was laughing, while wondering, do you actually think that this cheerful, talkative and crazy lady is depressed or stressed? If I knew this doctor well, I would suggest him to go upstairs, go back to his room, and get his textbook about chest pain. I am not overstressed. I am NOT!

Another female doctor came. She was a nice doctor with red hair. She checked my blood pressure and other things. She, unexpectedly, came to the same conclusion. I am overstressed or if you are a doctor, you would give it a better, fancier, medical name: psychosomatic illness.

Doctor Yoni gave me some medicines. There are two medicines that I have to take whenever I couldn’t breathe normally or have chest pain. I felt like I was in a movie. Have you ever seen a movie in which the actor has to take a pill whenever he has heart attach? Yap,.. I feel exactly like that!

I am not sure what made me overstressed; yet the more I think about it, the more chest pain I have. When I went to a meeting, I was rebuked by a woman from Jakarta. She said that there is a type of person that would think about many unnecessary things. She added, if this person were capable, she would probably think about everything, think about what would happen in next 10 years. But, what for?

I am that kind of person. I would think about many little things. If someone ignores me, I will spend nights to think what I have done wrong. If I say something funny, I will directly regret it and think that that person will be mad. I will think what is going to happen tomorrow, next week, next month. I will spend hours to “pray” and puzzle about my relationship, family, friends and thousand different things.

What for, Nie?

I don’t know! I enjoy feeling guilty, I reckon. I know it ain’t right. When I say that I surrender everything to the Lord, it means ‘everything’, even every small thing, such as clothes I would wear tomorrow, ticket I have to book, date I will go home, and many other small things.

I think those two medicines cannot cure my chest pain. I must stop sweating the small stuff and concern more on heavenly things.