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The other two doctors: When I was 20 or 21 I became temporarily determined to once again answer all those HUGE "Why" questions. I wanted to know what had happened because I wanted to know what to do about it if it happened again. Pretending it wasn't happening while I got sicker and sicker just did not work! Just allowing the sickness to run its coarse left behind a lot of damages and cost me a lot of years of my life. I still needed to know what to do if it happened again. So I made an appointment with Dr. "D," a rhematologist, after I'd seen, by accident of flipping channels, a story about Lymes disease. My symptoms had matched Lymes disease perfectly. At least it matched what I'd seen about Lymes and it wasn't my job to research Lymes and find out if it really was a flawless match or not. I contacted a priest and told him my story and asked him if there was any way the church could help me get to the doctor's appointment. I lived far away, there was no bus service and I didn't have a car yet. The priest called a Catholic couple and they drove me. Dr. "D" listened to my story about the symptoms, I even gave him a typed list in preparation. I felt like I should type up the symptoms because I needed time to think about them all and list them. It's not like I spent every moment of my life memorizing each one and I didn't want to forget anything important. Even a more minor symptom could be the key to a learned doctor. NEVER give a doctor you don't know extremely well a typed or written list of symptoms or concerns. I didn't know any better at the time. Dr. "D" glanced at the list and then up at me like I was crazy. We were off to a lousy start and I didn't know what to do about it. I tried to explain that I didn't have any current symptoms, except for a very few minor ones that might be nothing, but I needed to know what was wrong so that I'd know what to do if I got really sick again. Dr. "D" examined me like I had current symptoms. When he discovered that I didn't have current symptoms he was even more convinced that I was nuts. He was simply not pleased with me at all. I tried to explain again why I was there; I began to wonder if I was speaking in tongues or something. So I slowed down and listened to all my words very carefully. "I was sick with these symptoms from the ages of 16-19. I've recovered now so I don't have any symptoms. I'm 20 years old now. I still want to know what went wrong so that I know what to do if it happens again. That's why I am here today." There! That was clear! That was very simple and straightforward English, not confusing at all. Dr. "D" didn't get the point at all. He was annoyed and he quickly ordered some blood work and had my feet and ankles x-rayed. I was confused when he ordered the x-rays on my feet and ankles because I had just told him again that there were no symptoms now. Especially not in my feet (both a steady size 8) and ankles. I tried to tell him that if he had to x-ray to please x-ray my hips, they snapped a lot and got stuck sometimes. Maybe he'd find something there, even though I was walking and running fine again. Dr. "D" refused with a sour grimace on his face and stated that if there was a problem it would always show up in the feet and I had said that I once had swelling in the ankles. Once yes, but not at that moment! Dr. "D" didn't care. He was the doctor, the God-man and I was a nuisance in his eyes. When the results came back and I was seated before Dr. "D" again I was told that the tests came back negative. I didn't have Lymes disease. I was dismayed by this empty verdict, not because of the fact that nothing was discovered, but because of Dr. "D's" attitude towards me. I was dismayed by his sneering face and cold clipped voice and the fact that he wasn't willing to ponder the issue and test me again when and if he thought of anything that made sense. I didn't want to come in for endless appointments and I didn't want to become a perpetual pin cushion for endless tests and I definitely didn't want any evasive tests. I wanted a doctor to THINK about it and tell me when he had thought of a logical medical possibility. I wanted a doctor to do the research and then test me again. I didn't know back then that finding the diagnosis isn't really the doctor's concern. Doctors don't ponder cases. Doctors run one set of tests for whatever pops into their heads while the patient is in front of them for that 15 or 20 minute consultation and if they can't find out what's wrong right then and there they give up. Doctors never think about it afterwards. Doctors don't come across something in a book or at a convention and think, "Hmm, I wonder if that's what's wrong with so and so. Let me look into this some more and see if it could be the case." I begged Dr. "D" not to give up so quickly and to just think about it, if there was anything else logical and he told me that I was nuts. He said I should see a psychologist or a psychiatrist. I became desperate and told Dr. "D" about my past, the condensed version, and about why it had never been diagnosed before when there were viewable symptoms. I showed Dr. "D" some photos I'd brought of my ankles from back when I was sick. He glanced at them coolly and noticed my ankles were swollen, but then he said that I couldn't have bent my body to get those pictures if there was anything wrong with me. Hadn't he ever heard of a zoom lens? Dr. "D" finally flippantly agreed to refer me to another M.D., a neurologist. I was crestfallen. I didn't believe it was a neurological problem at all. How can a neurological problem have caused my joints to swell, rashes, opportunistic infections, warts, growths of hard skin, TMJ, fatigue, fever, and blood in the stool. All these symptoms, many so gross I could never speak them aloud casually, how could a neurological problem have anything to do with it? That did not make any sense at all. But I had to go because Dr. "D" was a physician and he was sending me there. I didn't know how to disrespect doctors back then. I made an appointment with Dr. "R" and was not thrilled about it. I thought I was wasting me time by going, but maybe Dr. "R" would be nicer than Dr. "D" and perhaps he would send me to someone else who was not a neurologist. One of my girlfriends drove me to see Dr. "R" and Dr. "R" was a trillion times nastier than Dr. "D." I was terrified of Dr. "R" after the first few minutes of the appointment and I never recovered enough to speak to him coherently. Dr. "D" had told Dr. "R" all about his opinion of me and Dr. "R" let me know it right up front. The appointment lasted only a short time, shorter than what's probably typical, and I had a prescription for an MRI. I didn't even know what an MRI was and when I called the place and found out I was even more dismayed. What the Hell did they expect to find with this MRI? An MRI of my head, no less. I told my parents what was up at this point and my dad agreed to drive me in for the MRI. My parents wouldn't have to pay for it because it was covered by insurance. Needless to say the MRI was normal, except for it indicated that I might have a vascular problem. When I went back into to see Dr. "R" to learn the results of the MRI, Dr. "R" treated me like dirt. He ordered me to remove my chewing gum before he would speak to me and then he told me the results and that I was nuts just like Dr. "D" said. Boy oh boy, these fellows that didn't even know me at all sure had their fast opinions! I was too scared to say a thing to Dr. "R." Today I would relish ripping his head off with my own verbal interpretation of reality. Today I would be incredibly verbally cutting and mean and if that doctor thought I was just nuts before he would likely think I was a psychopath now after I got finished telling him what I thought and felt about him and his airs. Sometimes I'm not nice anymore. However, it took another decade plus to make me what I am today when it comes to senselessly abusive doctors. I wish I hadn't had to learn to be this way. I wish so many doctors weren't so ignorant and damaging to their patients. Dr. "R" closed the session by giving me a prescription for medication to deal with the vascular problem and the headaches it was probably causing. I never filled the prescription and I have never taken that medication. I don�t get that many headaches anyway. |
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