Leftist commentary from a mouthy bitch
I turn my back for one minute… and douchebags find my blog.
I come back and there’s a bunch of “stupid liberal” bullshit in my comment queue. They always seem to pop up when I’m not updating regularly, like they don’t know that I moderate all comments or how that works, and think it might slip in or something.
They probably don’t.
Anyway, I had a doctor’s appointment today. I’ve had some ongoing hormonal issues, thinning head hair, increase in hair elsewhere. When I brought these up to my last doctor, the horrible one, her response was, “Well, if you want I can diagnose you with PCOS and give you metformin.”
A. Um, not diabetic even a little. And no matter how hard she tried, she could not read my test results as “pre-diabetic.” My blood sugar is FINE.
B. I have never had an ovarian cyst, in fact that last time I had an ultrasound the tech actually squee-ed* over how textbook perfect my uterus and ovaries were. I’m gonna guess that since you have Poly CYSTic Ovarian Syndrome, as the name of the condition, that having cysts is probably pretty important to a diagnosis of it.
When I pointed these two factors out, she got pissy with me and accused me of not wanting any help.
So, I said fuck it, and went on my merry way, dealing with increasingly thin hair and five o’clock shadow on my own.
Today, when I talked to my current doctor and mentioned the abortive PCOS diagnosis, he sort of turned his head sideways and said, “Why on earth would she diagnose PCOS? You don’t have any symptoms.” Then we sat down and discussed what was going on, how long it had been going on, what steps I had already taken to try to deal with it on my own, and he ordered a blood draw and said he’d call me in a day or two once he had those results, but he’s pretty sure he knows what we need to do, he just wants to check my thyroid just in case because of family history.
Before I left, I thanked him for listening, and for not just blaming it and everything else on my fat.
He smiled and said, “If you want that kind of abuse you can just record a message on your phone and play it over and over. I’m here to help you.”
And this is why he’s my doctor. Well, that and he laughed out loud when I said, “You know, I just started being comfortable with my size, and now my body’s all, ‘Oh, here’s MORE things for you to be insecure about. Have fun!’ Fuck my endocrine system.”
Thin people do not realize how fucking fraught going to the doctor can be, when you know you’re going to have to fight with them to seriously look at your concerns. It’s tiring. You don’t want to do it, especially when you already feel like crap and you know you’re going to have to put up with yet more bullying from someone who is supposed to help you, in order to get anything taken care. I’ve been accused of lying about my diet, about my levels of exercise by doctors and nutritionists. It sucks and it makes you not want to go, even when you need to. When you need an anxiety med just to get in the door, hell yes your blood pressure’s going to be through the roof.
So finding an honest to god good doctor who treats you like a real human being can sometimes feel like a miracle.
Sorry about the prolonged absence there. I’ll try to be more on top of things. I know there are an assload of things to blog about. I just had to take a news diet for my own mental health.
*I’m not kidding. She squealed and said, “Oh my GOD! You have the cutest uterus I’ve ever seen!” It ranks up there as one of the weirdest compliments I’ve ever gotten.