Why, Yes, I Don’t Love Doctors – Part Three

Yes, I know it seems like I’m rather blathering on about this, but it’s not just about ONE doctor. When the attitude and disregard of all these different doctors is the SAME it indicates a certain party line of education and training.

The pain was in the back of my leg and up the right cheek of my gluteus maximus. I saw my Dr. Feelgood, the one I know will give me pain medication when I complain of pain. He diagnosed a sciatica, asked how bad it bothered me on a scale of one to ten, and when I said eight and a half he offered to whack me with a shot of cortisone. I was looking for relief; I took it after he reminded me I was fat which put pressure on my nerves. I had pain at the injection site for a year afterward. The sciatica was mostly relieved. Sorta.

A week later I came down with a staph infection in my breast. Where do you get staph infections? Doctor’s offices and hospitals. Staph doesn’t normally hang around in the air and on objects like viruses and bacteria do and I’d been stuck with a needle at a doctor’s office a week before. About the amount of time it takes for staph to incubate. The nurse called after I made the appointment, before I saw the doctor, and asked why a sore breast would bring me in. I told her about the huge LUMP and the red line running along a blood vessel up toward my neck. I was way past a sore boob. She agreed I needed to come in. I don’t call unless I do. Get a clue.

They wouldn’t let me leave the doctor’s office without a massive injection of antibiotic, a quick-kill prescription of the same, and an appointment for a mammogram which I’d never had before. Just to check. Check for what? I was spiking a 103 degree fever, had an infection that hurt like hell in my breast and they wanted to squish it between two cold metal plates. The mammogram tech had me disrobe and spent the next half hour complaining I had too much boob to fit in her machine, she hoped I didn’t break the machine she was trying to stuff my boobs into, she didn’t think she’d get any good pictures because my boobs were too fat. This is how one woman speaks to another in a delicate and possibly embarrassing health care situation. The pictures read just fine, there were no lumps, and I owed three bills: the primary, the mammogram tech, and the radiologist to read the just fine pictures.

As I said previously I have chronic bronchitis and occasionally will consult a medical advisor because I am coughing colors and want an antibiotic to really burn out everything. I’ve never had an ear infection or trouble with my ears but they always itched and produced a certain amount of white skin cells and ear wax easily removed with a gently inserted q-tip. After one incidence of bronchitis and the ensuing antibiotic application my ears stopped itching and producing the dead skin cells and ear wax. Pretty cool until I started experiencing ice pick stabbing pain in my ears and random hearing loss. I mentioned it to a doctor when requesting another antibiotic concerned about taking more antibiotic, and as I told him my ears had stopped itching he interrupted me and said, “well, that’s a good thing, right?” I said, “Yes, until you figure in the ice pick stabbing pain and random hearing loss.” He did not send me to a specialist. He did not order a hearing test.

I’ll give more examples of abusive medical treatment in the course of my posts. I’ll be covering my hepatitis and diabetes experiences separately. After all the years and all these doctor’s behaviors I have come to believe and have evidence doctors think they know more and are better than the average person who comes to see them. They don’t really need to listen; they know what is wrong before you have given a full description of your symptoms. They are ready to sell you all kinds of drugs, but they don’t actually know what the drugs do because most of the pharmaceutical drugs are not even fifty years old. Not nearly long enough for effective testing and proof of their efficacy. I suspect few doctors have the time or inclination to keep abreast of both new and old studies, many of which are published with skewed or falsified results.

In our modern American medical paradigm if your health or illness issue doesn’t fit into a box on the insurance form, you don’t get help. I have a sinus/sleep problem, a burning tongue, and a swollen lymph gland issue I have mentioned at every doctor visit for the last two years. These complaints don’t fit into the insurance boxes and the medical consultants don’t know what to do about them. But they are all over my diabetes; it fits into the box.

My doctors have never taken what I would consider to be a complete medical history or dental history. Few doctors ask what you eat and when, or how much exercise you take. Even fewer offer advice in these areas, and the advice they offer is wrong. My essays on dentistry and mercury poisoning, earth/planet poisoning, detox and recovery, health maintenance, and the importance of exercise will be posting soon. And as soon as this techno-ditz figures out how to add links, I’ll be sharing some of my favorite sites; the positive ones about helping improve this world.

So. Here’s what distresses me most. The scientific party line doctors and medical consultants are taught is often WRONG. But they sell it as the absolute utmost truth when they are only giving, at best, an “educated” guess. Americans, for the last fifty years or so, have been the largest group of guinea pigs ever and you can SEE it in the change in the overall population by the average body size. We also are trending in a few interesting bio-chemically influenced ways such as gender fluidity and ambiguous genitalia, increasing populations of neurodiversity (autism, Aspergers syndrome, dyslexia, and schizophrenia can be considered examples of brain functioning differences), and an uptick in mental health issues including self medicators especially alcohol and anti-depressant abusers, Alzheimer’s disease, and stress related disorders, all of which can be influenced by applications of food and exercise in the proper kind and amount for the individual.

When one doctor said I was pre-diabetic, I asked what that meant. She said my blood sugar was high and I needed to watch what I ate, exercise, and lose weight. She recommended the American Diabetes Association diet, which I could look up on the Internet and told me I needed to get out of bed and go to the gym every morning at six like she did. I just about gagged on the presumptuousness of her suggestion. She and I are two very different persons; she is a doctor, I work at a semi-professional job and earn a median wage of about $40,000.00 a year and grateful for it. I would assume she makes a little more than that if she can afford a gym membership. I can’t. I also have illnesses she probably doesn’t have and in MY body SIX AM is not on my awake clock.

The way she said it I could hear my grandma’s voice calling us children “slugabeds” when we were still lying in bed as she put breakfast on the table. Food she’d grown and put aside and cooked herself. The echo of grandma’s voice: Get Real Clue.

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2 Responses to Why, Yes, I Don’t Love Doctors – Part Three

  1. Pingback: Loco Motion: Or Why You Must Exercise | Sassy Kas

  2. stephanie says:

    *sigh* I H-A-T-E doctors too…hate, hate, hate. I’m sorry 🙂


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