doctor

It started long, long ago, when my pediatrician failed to diagnose my thyroid disorder for several years. The only reason it was eventually diagnosed was a horrid rash I developed while on holiday. Even then, I had to deal with a big condescending exercise lecture from some short, fat bitch who was certain there was no way my thyroid was to blame. Grrr. Even when I was diagnosed, I wa given absolutely NO information about the disorder, and everything I now know about it was through hours of my own research.

Needless to say, after that I got a new doctor, and she was actually quite lovely and nice and temporarily renewed my faith in the medical profession. Not for long, however.

When one goes to the doctor, it is not often voluntarily. Most people avoid doctors at all costs; even if they suspect they might be suffering from some illness, most would rather suffer the illness than hear the diagnosis. It is imperative that when they finally do break down and phone for an appointment, then drag themselves into the waiting room, they are treated with respect. There are lots of humiliating discussions and procedures that take place in doctor's offices - the patient needs to feel comfortable.

I hate going to the doctor's and being made to feel a fool. Excuse me if I'm concerned about my health and have the courage to speak up about it. And it does take courage!

Today I finally made an appointment to meet a doctor and discuss several things that have been haunting me. First of all, my mother's been pleading with me for ages to get tested for diabetes, ever since she herself was diagnosed a year or two ago. I scoffed at the suggestion, until recently, when I started getting weak and shaky every time I was late eating lunch.

Secondly, I've been really worried about how much weight I've put on recently. I assumed it was because of the evil contraceptive pill, so I stopped taking it. I also gave up Coke -yes, I know, unbelievable! - and started drinking loads of water. Snacks are substituted with carrots, bananas and apples. There are daily walks and exercise... Yet still, no change in the weight. (Although I must admit, great boosts of energy... wow. Health.)

I was told by my former nice doctor that I must get my thyroid levels checked every six months. It's been nearly a year since my last blood test, so I'm definitely in need of a check-up. And low thyroid levels could explain the weight gain.

So am I so wrong to request some blood work?

From the reaction of the doctor, you'd think I'd requested voluntary spleen donation or something. She was such a bitch! She stared at me in silence after every sentence I said. She made me feel like a fool, and one who was wasting her precious time. Surely she should have been encoraging me? No. Oh no. She did everything she could to convince me NOT to get the diabetes test, and suggested the thyroid test was also a waste of time. She went through a long list of low thyroid symptoms, most of which I didn't exhibit, as if to prove to me I didn't need bloodwork done. Then she checked my pulse... as if that is any indication! For chrissakes.

Eventually, she agreed to give me the tests, and ordered me to go make an appointment with a nurse. She then shooed me away.

I left feeling sheepish and guilty. I had hoped to discuss other things with her, but I'll be damned if I was going to share anything with her. Normally I dread going to the doctors because of the inevitable weight lecture, but this time around, I wanted to discuss my weight and she couldn't care less.

Argh! It's so frustrating. This is exactly the type of thing that puts people off goig to the doctor. I know I won't be rushing back anytime soon. Oh shit.. that reminds me. I meant to ask about an eye test as well. Argh! Maybe I'll ask the nurse on Friday, when I have to go back after an overnight fast. At least she's bound to be nicer...