Where Has The Compassion In Medicine Gone?

On August 14th my father dropped me off at the hospital for my biopsy. It was outpatient surgery. My sister was supposed to come as soon as she could. My dad couldn’t stay because he had dialysis. I was scared, nervous, and in pain. I had stents put in previously to keep the ureters open so my kidneys wouldn’t fail again. The Urologist was going to biopsy the ureters and change the stents. I’m not good with anesthesia. I was quietly waiting for things to start.

The entire team that would be in the room came over to talk to me. They had just given me a mild sedative. The Urologist is making jokes at my expense. He says to everyone “This one is trouble! The demands she makes! WOW! She is demanding!” At this point he does a little hop. The head of Anesthesia says “She won’t be doing that in my hospital!” The entire time I’m lying there wanting to defend myself but can’t. I found myself unable to speak. The Urologist made me look like a “problem” patient before they even started. I was angry and confused. I wanted to tell at him. I wanted to tell him “Demanding? Your lucky I’m not 250 pounds and a drunk anymore because I’d shove my size 8 1/2 shoe up your ass” but I just stayed quiet.

They wound up taking biopsies from my bladder and kidney as well. The Urologist called my sister and told her he thought I would still need another biopsy where they do a coring of the ureter. So I’ll have to go under again. I had to be intubated which I’m not fond of and they never mentioned. I cried coming out of anesthesia. No one cares and my sister hadn’t shown up. I had seen my mother while under and didn’t want to come back. A nurse had blown a vein without my knowing it. The doctor didn’t talk to me just my sister. She showed up a half hour late to pick me up then yelled at me for being upset.

Why don’t the doctors take the time to read my chart? To see that I am Bipolar and have Conversion Disorder. And also see that I watched my mom die in that same hospital. Why don’t they know the mind and the body are connected? Why would they make jokes knowing I am scared and vulnerable? Telling them the last time to just leave under and don’t bring me back should have clued them in. My sister? She is who she is. That isn’t going to change. I’m alone in this and I better get used to it.

Whole Person/Patient Care

I realize I’m like a dog with a bone at times. When something is bothering me and I feel no one is taking me seriously or listening I get worse. I am “shushed” by my family or simply told to shut up. If they heard me out the first time and maybe said something like “I know that must of hurt you but I’m on your side” or anything like that maybe I wouldn’t still be bothered by the entire mess. Instead I got ” Come on! You’re blowing everything out of proportion!”. Or maybe I have a problem with short men because I said the Dr. had a Napoleon Complex. Not true by the way.

This brings me to the point of Whole Person/Patient Care. It’s done in other countries and in the U.S it’s mostly done in Holistic Medicine and Psychological/Psychiatric Care Centers. It is not done in mainstream medical practices.

When I go to the Urologist he/she only cares about that part of me. Same with the Cardiologist or Gynecologist. This does not help in my case. In fact it does me more harm than good.

If the Urologist had taken time to look in my file and see that I am Bipolar with Conversion Disorder and I also have Celiac Disease things might have went smoother. I might not have been on the ground beside my car crying after the appointment.

He didn’t care about what I had to say. He just wanted to come in, tell me what was going to happen and leave. I couldn’t do it. I could not have anything else to do with the Hospital I had been in. I literally watched my mother die there. The care I got was so bad my friend and her mother wanted to kidnap me out of there. I’ve already gone over the lack of care, comments made about being Bipolar and not taking me to the bathroom. Why would I want to have anything done there again? Absolutely not.

He wouldn’t listen. He just said if I wanted him and “the team” to “live” than that was what I had to do. I told him that he was the only person I had seen besides the nurses and his associate. I asked him if he had privileges at other hospitals why did I have to go to a place I didn’t like? He said he didn’t like it either but that’s where my “team” was. I was getting upset at this time. I said “WHAT TEAM??!!” it was only him. He was getting cockier and ruder by the minute. Again with the “if I want to live” thing. I wanted to ask him if he looked at my file at all. I’m Bipolar, sometimes I don’t know if I want to live or not. He wasn’t making things easier. My meds probably had not been metabolized correctly for quite some time. It’s why I was usually crying. If he had just taken the time to look at me as a person and not a bladder or ureter problem to solve what a difference it would have made.

At the end of the appointment I was crying and begging this person to help me and not hate me. PATHETIC. I think about it now and I’m so embarrassed that I would give anyone that kind of power. There are other doctors but at the time I was scared. I had been told by several doctors that whatever is going on is serious so I panicked. It didn’t give him the right to bully me into doing what he wanted. He was smiling when I left. I was trying not to hiccup from holding back my emotions and tears. I shouldn’t let anyone get to me like that.

If your Doctor isn’t listening to your valid questions or requests, find another one. It’s the best advice I can give.

The Urologist wanted me to go to his Hematology/Oncology doctor. I have my own excellent, caring, understanding Hematology/Oncology doctor that I told him I would be using. Before he could say a word I said “He graduated with you and has an excellent reputation, he was just voted Top Doc in our State I’m sure you wouldn’t have problem with him.” He said nothing. How could he? The guy was in his graduating class and he knew him. The only time I felt in control.

In conclusion Whole Person/Patient Care is a must. The brain greatly effects the body and vice versa. You need to see a person as a complete package not just one part. It will never work if our Healthcare System continues this way. I’m hopeful things will change. There are good doctors out there you just have to find them and see if they take your insurance. lol Sorry that’s whole different problem.

For Doctors Everywhere

When your kidneys are failing there are some symptoms that are often overlooked. Confusion, depression, an overall change in personality. That wonderful person people once knew now snaps at everyone and everything. When you also have a patient with Bipolar Disorder, Anxiety, Conversion Disorder and Celiac Disease it can make treatment 10 times harder. Specifically if you as the Doctor do not look at the patient’s history and are unaware of these previous diagnoses.

It is especially hard on the patient who is under the assumption that you do know all of these things.

When I find myself in a physician’s office saying “sorry” for the 100th time because I’m upset, confused and angry it does no one any good. When I think of actually NOT doing any life saving measures because I was just humiliated there is something incredibly wrong with the system.

Because I took up extra time, asked questions, and did NOT want to have procedures done at 1 specific hospital, I was told fine. Find other doctors, BUT if you want to LIVE than you will go along to get along, otherwise I can’t help you. Next patient please.

When I left the office and made it to my car I slumped to the pavement. I am 5’6″ tall and now weigh 127pounds. Because my kidneys failed and they don’t know why. I sat on the ground and cried waiting for someone to save me. There was no one to call. No one to help. Thoughts just spun in my head. I was scared.

Doctors need to get on the same page with treatment. Not just the treatment of the mind but the body also. I’m tired of apologizing for who I am at every appointment, scared the doctor won’t treat me because they find me difficult.

I loathed begging that little man to treat me, saying sorry over and over. At one point asking him not to hate me. All because I didn’t want to be treated at a hospital with no running water, no bathroom in the rooms, that forgot to start my IV for a day and had the people that did visit me wonder if they were in a third world country.