February 19, 2009


What the Foucault Was Wrong With My Doctor?

Yesterday, I went to the doctor's for the first time in Britain. As a rule, I've never been too kean on doctors. I loved my childhood doctor, but other than that, as people, I often find physicians so fucking full of themselves and judgmental that I can't stand it. I love Foucault, and he hated doctors. He saw them as part of a kind of conspiracy to control people. They are privileged in the power/knowledge matrix. They supposedly have the "knowledge" of what is wrong with us, and so they have the right to surveil us. If we don't want them to, we can't get medication when we need it. So, because I needed to be treated for a yeast infection, I have to go to the doctor's yesterday. I had no choice.

The doctor was young (early 30's or late 20's), and hot hot hot! She didn't wear a white coat. Instead, she wore a clingly floral dress that hit her in all the right places and patent leather black high-heeled boots. Her long black hair was luscious and loose. In short, she looked like the hot, sexy doctor from a porn flick. I, however, decided not to judge her on her appearance. So what if she was the hottest doctor EVER. The oonly thing was, this woman was about to see me naked, and so by extension this incredibly attractive woman was going to see me naked. Was she going to judge me? Of course not, I thought, she's a doctor! I'm just paranoid in my dislike of doctors - doctors would never judge me like Foucault says they do, would they?

When the doctor had her hand up in my woman parts to do the necessary test and inspection, no sooner was this woman peering into my lady garden than she said to me, "So what exactly does a gender studies student do? What would you actually learn in that?" The tone here was everything. The tone was not light and chatty. The tone was somewhat sarcastic and definitely judgmental. The chick who was seeing me naked and getting more intimate with me than even some boyfriends I've had was making fun of my master's degree!

At the end of the appointment, the mean hot doctor couldn't even tell me for SURE if she thought I did have a yeast infection, and sent off a sample of my cervix to be tested for yeast infestation. I felt like yelling at her, "You can't tell me if I have a yeast infection from inspecting me? Oh, what did you actually learn in medical school then?" But I didn't becaucause I wanted drugs.

A doctor sees you at your most vulnerable, and if you want a prescription, you HAVE to play nice. This is why they should not abuse this privilege to say any bitchy thought that comes to mind. Hot doctor, I felt sick and gross and hadn't even had the energy to blow-dry my hair that day. I was not looking my best and was worried you were judging me for that, and you probably were, because you were definitely judging me for my degree! Doctors are supposed to make you feel at ease, not on medical trial! See, this is why I don't like doctors! They think they're such good people and then they go and make fun of me when I have my legs in stir-ups and there's nowhere to run...

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