trying this one more time…

Posts tagged ‘doctor’

Eight years

In the past eight years so much has happened.

  • I graduated high school
  • I got a tattoo
  • I moved away for the summer
  • I started college.
  • I had my own first scary medical experience.
  • My Dad had cancer.
  • I changed colleges; moved states.
  • I changed my life plans.
  • I made new, better best friends.
  • I became a pot head.
  • I started volunteering in a field that would late direct my first career moves/educational paths.
  • I was a leader at everything I joined.
  • I got a kitten that I sillily named Spanish who now mostly goes by The Chicken unless she is in trouble ūüôā
  • I lost touch with my high school friends.
  • I was raped twice.
  • I held different jobs.
  • I found a love for my frisbee golf hobby.
  • Most of my friends left the town where I lived.
  • I traveled to Washington, Idaho, Oregon, Texas, Colorado, Wyoming.
  • I graduated college with an acceptable GPA (over 3.5) and therefore with honors.
  • I got and kicked ass at my first professional job.
  • I had a major illness that went undiagnosed for over a year. I had two major surgeries, one still technically experimental. I advocated for my own medical rights.
  • I stood up to my superiors based on ideals, even though it was not the best move¬†politically.
  • I met a boy who changed my life.
  • I feel in love.
  • I changed my life plans, goals for a boy- something I never thought I would do and have ¬†not regretted once.
  • I was proposed to.
  • I live(d) with said boy.
  • I moved to a place I had only visited for a ¬†total of 40ish hours.
  • I moved across the country with only a car load and my cat (the movers and the boy came soon later)
  • I was unemployed and depressed.
  • I am waging my way through a new professional environment and dynamic.
  • I don’t talk to my family nearly as much as I did 8 years ago.
  • I am an adult now. At 18, I was lost.
  • I’m starting a graduate program for the love of the field, the work, and certainly not for the money.
  • I have serious intentions of babies- something I swore up and down at 18 that I wouldn’t ever have
  • I¬†traveled¬†to Illinois, Wisconsin (duh ūüôā ), and Washington DC.
  • My worldview has changed. My religious beliefs have changed. My world it self has entirely changed.
So much has changed since my mom died that I wonder what is the same. The intangibles. I don’t even know.
This is the first time I have cried today. The sun¬†shiny¬†morning made me think that I could focus on celebration of her memory alone. And then the icefog at work chilled me out a bit (apologies for the pun ūüôā ) ¬†I opened this blog with the intention of posting a picture that now has no business being here, and this is what spilled out.¬†Grieving¬†is good, I keep telling myself. Even though I slightly feel that with each¬†remembrance, the memories slightly fade and blur. We’ll see.

another Monday


I find being at work on a grey day, with so many layers of the cloudy sky that the sun doesn’t dare appear, to be quite depressing. I don’t know what quite sparked this mood, whether it was the pathetic fallacy of the weather, my inactive but happy Bones watching weekend, or waking up to a call from the doctor that traumatized me on Friday. What a horrible experience… Immediately afterwards I was simply sad and depressed but after talking with Greggo and my best friend, my sadness¬†dissipated¬†into outrage and fury at the awful doctor. Seeing a new doctor is never really a comfortable experience- especially for the lovely annual exam ( I mean who does’t love the shoving of cold duck bills, right?!) but this one really was the worst interaction I’ve had with a medical professional and I really think she had no idea.

The¬†appointment¬†started as they all do, with medical history. Given that my gastric paresis is not¬†altogether¬†common, I am very used to explaining it, the process by which it was diagnosed and the treatment approaches thereof. Because of this medical history, I’m a bit sensitive to doctors not taking me seriously, believing me etc and I have found that the easiest way to¬†dispel¬†this issue is to be pretty honest about it. I often have found myself saying something like, “well, as a college student I found a few doctors that either didn’t believe me about my symptoms or chose not to take them seriously so I’ve become pretty on top of my medical care and understanding the decisions that were being made about my treatment.” Usually, doctors get it right away (I mean, they’re smart people!) and I get the care I need. In fact, I recently saw a new gastrointerologist and after my normal, and kind, disclaimer, he apologized for the other doctors, told me he knew I wouldn’t fake something so horrible, and told me how happy he was that I had 1. found my surgeon and the ability to once again consume solid food and 2. that I had found him as my gastro. All in all a swell guy.

ANYways, end of huge sidenote, after explaining my history with my chronic illness the new doctor asked the cause, and when I replied “idopathic” the correct medical term for- no one has a fucking clue-, she looked¬†extremely¬†doubtful. Warning sign one. I felt insecure from her look and explained that I knew that some eating disorder patients developed this but that was something that I had never struggled with and if I had, I would have been happy to disclose it during the 2 year period when I couldn’t really eat. Her reply? “well, you COULD eat.”

“um, well liquids, ha.” (liquids alone, does not a happy eater make, believe me)

“right, you could eat.”


Ok, gee thanks for your compassion and warning sign number 2. She proceeds to tell me that sometimes they can see this in severe diabetes cases, was I ever tested? “yes.” “are you sure?” “um, yes.” Lady, do I need to tell you again about my medical history, and how awful it was for me to have doctors not believe/take me seriously. They fucking tested me for diabetes, I promise. *sigh* She then looks at my stomach, and says, well weight can be an indicator of diabetes so I’m going to test you again.

Ok, so admittedly, I have gained weight. And this winter I have been more inactive than I would have liked and have been honestly looking into getting a gym membership, but want to make sure I am truely dedicated before spending money on it in our tight budget. However, when I conveyed my weight concerns to my swell gastro guy, he told me, “hey, look. you were miserable when you couldn’t eat. you’re now engaged and happy. enjoy your life; you’re fine.” His niceness almost brought tears to my eyes- her rudeness almost did the same.

Ok, so I’m a bit anxious at this point and feeling quite sensitive. Then we get to family history. I’ve also answered questions about my parents’ cancers a bunch of times and usually people are kind and understanding. But, when I was explaining that my lovely, dear and beautiful mother had colon cancer (that was supposed to kill her within a week), went into full remission, and then 4 years later had ovarian cancer (which was supposed to kill her within a week) and then lived 2 full more years before passing away at the very young age of 50- my evil bitchfaced doctor replied, um are you sure? thats quiet uncommon. Ha. Yes, yes, bitchface I’m sure.

And then I started to cry. How¬†embarrassing. I was mortified- I’m past this stage in my grief but the¬†preceding¬†3 minutes spent in her company had ruined any resolve I had, and I felt vulnerable, and cried. After quickly recovering, she asked and I explained that 4 months after my mom died, my dad had prostate cancer and had surgery and is now fine. Given the timeline, I expected… well whatever. She doesn’t owe me any¬†sympathy.. but I was¬†surprised¬†by her again distrust, question the years this all happened and then asked if I had sisters, and if my mom had any genetic testing. Yes, two older sisters and I don’t know about genetic tests, so I doubt it.

She then replied, “Your mother had 3 daughters and 2 types of cancer and didn’t get genetic testing?!” complete with her look of judgement. Umm, I’m sorry, did you just victim blame my late mother right after I cried about her early passing?! Fuck. you.

Ugh, there was more… there was the are you sure you don’t need STI testing…you may be faithful but he might not be, and the well, the HPV vaccine might be good because you may not end up marrying you¬†fianc√©¬†bits, further comments about my weight… and more too. I’m just so horrified by how it went. I left, got in my car and cried a little more on the way home. Fun stuff.

I got over my sadness very quickly after relaying the events to Greg and Laura. Turns out, I was pissed off about it. When she woke me with a call at 7 am because “that was a time convenient for everyone” (read: her) she told me my blood test had revealed that, shockhorror, I didn’t have diabetes and while my good cholesterol was exactly as it should be she was slightly concerned about my slightly elevated bad cholesterol and instantly, would you like to try some medications about it. Um no. no no no no no. I get it, I need to work out, get healthier, maybe adjust my diet a bit. But please don’t rush to drugs just because it is elevated. Bitch. Face.

Yeah, I won’t be seeing her again. And I will be working on my sedentary nature, but not because of that bitchface doctor thinks I’m disgusting.