It’s the Little Things that Count
Not this Doctor. (Sadly)
I’ve talked about my former doctor here before. The fact that she’d act disappointed when the numbers of my blood tests and blood pressure were awesome (because they are) because I could use that to derail her “THE DETHFATZ R KILLIN U!” lectures at me.
As a matter of fact, this is pretty much how my last visit with her went:
Doctor: “You need to bring your weight down, because it’s killing you. You’ll see that when we do your blood test.”
Me: “Well, I came in and had them do the blood draw on Saturday (hooray for that service), so you should be able to look up the results on the computer now.”
Doctor: “Oh, yeah. So, see right here! Your blood sugar is… low. Well, your cholesterol is bound to be… low. Those aren’t the only things we need to look at, your blood pressure is… low normal.”
Me: “So, um, how’s that ‘dying as we speak’ thing working out for you?”
This same doctor had a tendency to blow me off when I told her medications weren’t working for me (Flonsase, her response? “You’re doing it wrong.”) And, as I found out when I had my appointment this year, she didn’t actually DO my pap smear last year. She took the swab, but didn’t send it to the lab, in spite of the fact that the reason I demanded the pap smear was because I have a family history of uterine and ovarian cancer. (This office only sends you the letter if something’s wrong, so I just assumed the pap smear was fine when I didn’t hear.) When I came to her with concerns about weight gain with no change in diet or exercise, hair loss, and other things, blew me off again. “Oh, it’s probably just PCOS. Do you want me to put you on meds?” No further testing. Nothing.
As you can imagine, even for my firey, curmudgeonly self, doctor visits were something I’d have to psyche myself up for. I’d spend days wondering just what exactly she said behind my back, since a lot of what she said to my face was so awful, including on the one occasion she did bully me into food journalling, accusing me of lying, telling me that I obviously drink tons of soda after I told her I didn’t (I don’t), and telling me to lay off the fast food (which I don’t eat).
This year, I switched doctors. And in the course of my exam, in which he congratulated me on having awesome blood pressure, I brought up my weight, and my lack of weight loss when the Husband and I cut out HFCS after his diabetes diagnosis. His response, “You know, I find weight has an awful lot to do with genetics. As long as your numbers are good, I don’t see why you shouldn’t just go on as you have.”
I didn’t do the blood test ahead of time this time, and so I got my results in the mail Tuesday. I read them out loud to the Husband: “Low, normal, normal, normal, low normal, normal, normal, low, low, normal. Note from doctor: Everything’s fine! It was great to see you!”
After the visit and getting the results, so much tension left my body. It’s such a refreshing change to be treated like an adult human being by a healthcare professional, instead of as a naughty child. It’s so nice to have someone look at my history of compliance with medications that DO work (Advair, the love of my life), and listen to me when I say that something doesn’t work. And it’s brilliant to have someone reaffirm, that yes, even though I’m fat, I’m healthy, and I do know what is going on with my own body.
Polimicks 
Glad you found a good doc!
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I am so jealous and SO HAPPY OMG! that you found a good doctor. “It was so good to see you!”? Wow. Just, wow.
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