I finished saddling up my horse, unhooked him from the crossties and led him to the barn door. I really didn’t feel like going for a ride, but Jack hadn’t been ridden in a while and being a retired racehorse, when not worked, he got cantankerous and hard to handle. As I led the 14 year old bay through the door, I saw someone get out of a car in my driveway, a tall blonde male. I recognized him as my ob/gyn, Dr Julian Richards. He looked out of place in his suit and tie. My labrador retriever, Jessie, appeared out of nowhere, barking her head off, ready to defend her homestead and owner to the death, if need be. Truth be told, she was more bark than bite, but she was intimidating to those who didn’t know her. “Down, Jessie”, I commanded and she lay down at my feet.

WTF is he doing coming here?? I wondered, a little irritated. I had been having pain in my lower left side for a few months but I hate going to the doctor. He had run into me in the supermarket a couple weeks ago, could tell I was in pain, asked some questions and told me to make an appointment to see him ASAP. I had not done so.

“Hey, Doc”, I greeted him as he approached. “What brings you out here?”

“I think you know”, he replied, looking me in the eye. He has gorgeous blue eyes and despite my best intentions, I usually find myself obeying him when he gets that tone and that look. This time, though, we were on *my* turf. I vowed to stay firm and be the one in control of the visit.

“I’d love to play a guessing game with you, Doc”, I said sarcastically, “But Jack here is itching for a good run and when Jack doesn’t get his run, Jack gets hyper and I’m not in the mood to deal with that right now. So, let’s make this short and sweet, ok?”

“Oh my, you are feisty, aren’t you?” he asked with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

“Calm down, Doc, life’s too short to be so serious all the time.”

“I have a serious job”, Dr Richards replied. “And, as I’m sure you know, I’m here because you were to make an appointment to see me about that pain and you haven’t. You have also been ducking my calls, and not returning them even when I leave messages.”

I’m sure a guilty look came over my face. “Nothing personal, Doc. I just don’t have the time to come in right now.”

“Don’t have the time or won’t make the time? I‘m pretty sure it‘s the latter. You just don‘t want to come in.”

Damnit, he had me pegged. As usual. What could I say?

“Meredith, could you please put your horse somewhere so we can talk?” he asked in a softer tone. He looked very uncomfortable with Jack so close. “I don’t think you should be riding today, I can tell you’re in considerable pain. Get someone else to exercise him. Please.”

I could hear the caring in his voice and see it in his face. My heart melted. I really liked Dr Richards and didn’t like to be at odds with him. He had been so gentle and patient with me when I had started going to him after having some awful experiences with the other OB/GYN in the city. I held the reins out to him. “Here, take these while I get the saddle off.” I instructed. The doctor looked like I had just told him to run a 10k with no training. “It’s okay, Jack won’t hurt you.”

“Didn’t you say he gets hyper when he doesn’t get his exercise?”

“Yeah but he’s not quite there - yet. Here, give him one of these, you’ll have a friend for life.” I pulled a horse treat from my pocket and showed him how to hold his hand out flat so Jack could take it from him. The gelding took the treat and I got a second one out and handed it to the doc. He took it reluctantly and did as I had showed him. Jack took the treat very gently, as if he knew Dr Richards was a newbie around horses.

“His nose is so soft!” he exclaimed with surprise after Jack took the biscuit from him.

“Go ahead and pet him,” I said. “he loves to have the backs of his ears scratched, like most horses.” I handed the reins to my doctor and undid the cinch. When I had the saddle off, I set it over the fence for the time being and took the reins back. The doc seemed to be relaxing a bit, scratching Jack behind his left ear. Hmmm…..maybe I can make a horseman out of him, I thought.

I took the bridle off and put it with the saddle. Holding on to the halter, I led Jack to the pasture gate, and let him in. “You’ll get your run soon”, I promised him with a pat on his neck. “Ok, Doc,” I said turning to Dr Richards after I closed and secured the gate. “Let’s go up to the house to talk”. I started off at a brisk walk which didn’t last long. The pain in my side suddenly intensified and I was forced to slow down. I grabbed my side with my hand and continued on.

The doc doesn’t miss much, and this was no different. “Here, let me help you, hon,” he offered, taking my free arm.

“I don’t need help, I’m a big girl, I can walk on my own,” I replied, grumpily. I instantly regretted being so cranky - he was only trying to help.

“Always have to be so independent, don’t you?” he asked, with a bit of annoyance in his voice. “There’s no crime in letting someone help you.” He put his arm around me. “Lean on me, it will make it easier walking.”

I didn’t have the energy, emotional or physical, to resist any further, so I let him help me get up to the house. He was so close, I could smell his cologne. Not for the first time, I wished he wasn’t my ob/gyn.

When we got to the stairs, he helped me up and we sat down in chairs on the porch. Jessie lay down in front of the steps, pretending to be the mighty guard dog. “Can I get you anything?” I offered. “Coffee, tea, lemonade?”

“I’m fine”, he replied, “But you look like you could use a drink of water.”

“I’m ok.”

“It’s a warm day and you’ve been outside. You need to stay hydrated.”

“Ever the doctor, eh?”

“Always”, he replied. “Now, let me get you some water. No, you are not getting it yourself, now sit back down.”

I returned to my seat with a sigh and gave him directions to my kitchen and told him where to find the drinking glasses. When he had gone inside, I sat there thinking and realized this visit was not going the way I vowed it would. It was *my* territory and *I* was boss here, not him. Screw this, I’m getting my own water. I got up and opened the door and stepped inside. The pain was a bit better after sitting for a couple minutes.

I was about halfway to the kitchen when Dr Richards came out with a big glass of water. He did not look happy to see me on my feet. “I have to go to the bathroom”, I said, which was not a complete fabrication. The look he gave me showed he didn’t totally believe me, but he did not challenge me. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked down the hall to the ground floor bathroom.

When I came out, he was sitting at my kitchen table. I went in and sat down. He placed the glass of water in front of me. “You are not getting up until you finish this”, he commanded.

“Look, this is *my* house….” I began but that’s all I got out.

“That may be so, but I am your doctor and that trumps this being your property. Now, drink up.”

Damn, why did he have this effect on me every single time? I wondered as I gave in and took a drink.

“Another drink”, the doc commanded when I set the glass down. “We are sitting here until that glass is empty.”

I knew there was no use arguing. He would get his way. Truth be told, I secretly enjoyed it, a little. And I would do almost anything for my favourite doctor. But I would never let him know!

I took a few more drinks and then he spoke again. “Now, Meredith, let’s talk about you coming in to the clinic to get that pain checked out. I want to see you as soon as possible.”

“Doc, I don’t have time.”

“Make time.”

“I can’t. I have too much to do here.”

“Look, I am booked up for the next couple weeks, but I will make time for you. Come to the office tomorrow at 5:30pm.”

“But your last patient is 5pm,” I protested.

“Yes, and I should be done by 5:30. As I said, I am making time for you. Will you make time for me?”

How could I argue? I hated it when he had me over a barrel like that. “Ok, Doc,” I acquiesced and took my last drink out of the glass. “I will be there tomorrow at 5:30.”

“Good. Now, I’d like to take a quick look at you before I leave. Where is your bedroom?”

“It’s upstairs,” I replied.

“Can you make it up there?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “I have a spare bedroom down the hall here on the ground floor. I use it when the stairs are too much.”

“Lead the way,” the doc commanded.

“Aw, Doc….” I started to protest.

“Don’t ‘Aw, Doc’ me,” he said firmly. “Down the hall. Now.”

I got up from my chair with a sigh and led him to the bedroom at the end of the hall. He directed me to lay down on the bed. “I don’t want to in my dirty barn clothes,” I protested.

“Then take them off. You can do it while I wash my hands. I presume you have a bathroom on this floor.”

“Yes, across the hall,” I said and he left the bedroom. I took off my top and jeans, and got a robe from the closet and put it on before sitting down on the bed.

Dr Richards came back in and asked me to lay down. I did as directed and he sat down beside me. “Show me again where the pain is, hon.” I pointed to the spot in my lower left abdomen. “I need you to open your robe so I can examine you.” Without waiting, he undid the tie and opened the robe. He began to palpate me on my right side. “We’ll start over here,” he said “Let me know if you feel any pain or discomfort.”

“Ok, Doc,” I agreed. He palpated all over my lower right side, then moved to the left. When he got close to where the pain was the greatest, I winced. A few seconds later, I yelped as he pushed in on the spot where it really hurt.

“Sorry, hon,” my doctor apologized. “I don’t like causing you more pain, but I have to feel your ovary.” He was done shortly after and I breathed a sigh of relief. “I think you have a cyst on your ovary,” he explained. I still want to see you tomorrow for a more thorough exam, but I am going to order an ultrasound so I will do that tomorrow morning to save time and hopefully, I can get you in soon.”

“What if it is a cyst?” I asked.

“Well, that depends on the size,” he replied. If it’s too big, I will want to remove it but if not, then we can just keep an eye on it and there’s a good chance it will subside.” He stood up. “I want you to rest until your appointment with me tomorrow. Especially no barn work or outside work.”

“Aw, Doc…” I started to say.

“Don’t ‘Aw, Doc’ me”, he said for the second time that day. “That is an order. I know you have help with the barn work, so you do not have to do it yourself.” He was right, my neighbour and best friend, Karen, came over every day to help with the stalls, especially when the barn was full to capacity with rescue horses. I knew she would do it all herself or get her daughter, who was horse-crazy, to help. So I did not have an excuse to not follow doctor’s orders.

“Okay, okay!” I replied with resignation. I sat up on the bed and then got up and tied my robe shut. “I will take it easy until my appointment. After that, no promises.”

“I will take what I can get - for now”, the doc said and started walking out of the bedroom. I followed him down the hall and through the living room to the front door. He turned to face me. “I expect to see you tomorrow at 5:30. No cancelling or skipping!”

“I wouldn’t do that to you, Doc”, I replied with sincerity. “Skipping or cancelling last minute is not my style. If I miss an appointment without calling or if I cancel last minute, it is because of something urgent. And, besides, I may give you a hard time, but I like you, Doc. And I respect your medical judgment. If I didn’t, I’d not be your patient.”

Dr Richards looked surprised. He smiled. “Why, thank you. I trust you will do as told and no heavy work between now and your appointment tomorrow?”

“I promise, I won’t.”

“Good. I will see you at 5:30.” He opened the door and stepped outside.

“Drive carefully back to the city. Be safe”, I said, determined to turn the tables and give him an order, even if it was just once.

The next day found me sitting in Dr Richards’ waiting room at 5:25 pm. A little early but better that than late, I figured. There was nobody else there, not even the nurse/receptionist. I was alone with my thoughts, which were centred on what was to come. I knew the doctor was going to do a full internal exam and I dreaded it, both because of the embarrassment and because of the pain I was in - I did not want to be poked and prodded. The only thing that kept me from bolting was my promise to Dr Richards that I would come.

All too soon, the doctor appeared in the doorway and called me back. With butterflies in my stomach, I got up and walked toward him. “You’re as white as a sheet,” he said. “You aren’t afraid of me, are you?”

“No,” I mumbled. “Just a little nervous.”

“What happened to all that sarcasm I saw yesterday? You sure are a different person here in my office. Don’t worry, hon, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Famous last words, Doc.”

“Now, there’s that sarcasm! Come on, let’s go find out what’s going on with you - though I‘m pretty sure I know.”

I followed him down the hall to an exam room. He motioned to the chair beside the desk and told me to sit down, then sat in the chair in front of the desk. He put on his reading glasses and opened my chart. “So, Meredith - you have been experiencing pain, correct?”

“Yes, Doc. You know that.”

“Sorry, Meredith, but I have to record the information for legal purposes.” Meaning, covering his butt. He wrote in my chart as he asked further questions and I answered:

“Where is this pain? Can you show me?” I pointed to my lower left quadrant.

“Any nausea or vomiting?”

“Sometimes, when the pain is really bad.”

“Any fever?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Bloating?”

“Sometimes.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“About 3 or 4 months.”

“3 or 4 months?? Why have you not come in sooner?”

“I figured it would go away, and I don’t like doctor appointments.”

“I don’t think anyone does like them, but they are necessary at times. Now, I want to have a look at you.” The doc took his glasses off and got up from his chair. He went over to the exam table and opened a drawer beneath it. “I want you to get undressed and put this gown on. There’s also a drape for you. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

I did as instructed and sat on the table waiting for Dr Richards to return. I was not looking forward to this, being poked and prodded in the spot where I was having pain. I sometimes wondered if doctors were sadists.

All too soon, he was back. “Doc, do you really have to do this?” I pleaded. “You looked at me yesterday at my place.”

“And I told you then that I wanted to do a more thorough exam”, he replied.

“Do you absolutely have to?”

“Yes, I absolutely have to. I want to make sure there isn’t something else going on besides what I suspect is causing your symptoms.”

I gave a small sigh.

“Why did you come if you don’t want me to examine you?”

“Because I said I would and I don’t go back on my word lightly.”

“That is a good thing to know about you.”

“Why do I have the feeling I’m going to regret telling you that, Doc?” I asked, giving him a teasing smile.

“Now, there’s the Meredith I’ve grown to know and love”, he teased back, giving me a wink. Then he got serious. “Hon, why don’t you want me to examine you? What are you afraid of?”

“I know what you’re gonna do, Doc. You’re going to poke and prod me and it’s going to HURT.” I put emphasis on the word “hurt”.

“I have to ‘poke and prod’ to find out what’s wrong, but I will be as gentle as I can be. I don’t want to cause you pain any more than you want me to.”