Saturday, August 16, 2014
The visit started off with the usual, "So, how's your diet?" and deteriorated from there. Mind you, the last three visits have been for stomach problems last August, heart irregularities in January, and a severely bruised and swollen knee last April from a bad fall. None of these have been followed up on -- just "How's your diet?"
This man, who calls himself an osteopath and a hands on healer literally never touched me during the whole visit; didn't listen to my heart, take my pulse, or even shake my hand on entering the room, wasn't even facing me during much of our conversation.
He "doesn't remember" making the remark about me eating an entire chocolate cake, didn't deny that he might have said it, but didn't apologize for it. Instead he asked me it I was so insulted by it, why I had continued to come back.
He asked me if I was AT LEAST willing to take an A1C test, and I told him no, because in four and a half years, he had never given me copies of my lab results, even though I had asked. He denied this as well, saying he would never refuse to give someone a copy of their results.
Bottom line is he "fired" me as a patient, and told me he would send me a letter stating he was no longer my physician. So I'm now shopping for a new primary health care doctor in my insurance plan, preferably someone I can actually talk to.
Saturday, August 09, 2014
I called yesterday to make a doctor's appointment. When the girl asked the reason for the appointment, I told her it was my annual visit so that the doctor could yell at me for 20 minutes then renew the prescriptions that aren't working for me anymore. Unfortunately, it's true.
My doctor absolutely loathes diabetics, sees it as a self-inflicted disease like drug addiction, and believes that lecturing will make me "see the light" and stop being diabetic, or at least get it under tight control. The first visit to him, he told me not to expect to eat a whole chocolate cake and then come to him to adjust my insulin. Obviously, diabetics are gluttons, in his eyes, and would cheerfully eat a whole cake just to spite him. BTW, I'm not on insulin, and never have been.
He had also asked for a 3 week food log, which I gave him, and the only thing he took note of was that the previous day I'd had a hot dog from the local convenience store while I was doing laundry at the laundromat. "I suppose it came on a bun." Well, yeah, they usually do. otherwise the mustard drips down your hand and makes a mess.
OTOH, when I asked him how many calories a day I should be aiming for, he gave me a song-and-dance about how it "depends on the individual." Likewise, when he told me no heavy lifting, I got the same routine, and had to literally scream at him to give me a freaking number. He finally decided no more than 20 pounds.
No matter what I go to see him about, he invariably turns the conversation to diabetes, as if there were nothing more to me than a defective pancreas, or as if my diabetes were somehow the root cause of a bleeding scalp wound or twisted ankle. He has never followed up on the tests he ordered except for the blood glucose and A1C, and made no reference to the results of the colonoscopy he ordered, in fact, hadn't even read the test results when they came in. .
I dread my appointments with him, and usually walk out feeling lower than whale turds. I asked about changing doctors, but was basically told that all doctors hate diabetics. So it's going to be a rough week.
Saturday, May 03, 2014
Saw the cardiologist on Wednesday, and she put me on a blood pressure medicine which lowered my blood pressure way too much -- 106/57 -- leaving me feeling unfocused and woozy. Called on Friday and didn't get a call back. Meanwhile, my blood sugars are going over-the-top crazy; no answers there either.
Slept until 7 a.m. and Hubby had a fit, because he fed the goats alone -- his choice -- because, he says, I "chose" to sleep late and ignore my responsibilities to the poor goats, who depend on us, and if that's the way I feel about them, what does he need me for? So I'm basically lazy and worthless because I need extra sleep right now.
Unfortunately, this cut to the heart. I'm not pretty, or smart, well-educated or wealthy. All I have going for me is being useful, and apparently if I can't get up at 6:30, nothing else I can do counts toward anything.
Right now I don't even want to speak to him, except out of necessity I cry every time I think about it.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Saw the doctor yesterday. He said my heart is skipping roughly one out of every three beats -- not good. He has to get permission from my insurance company for me to have an EKG and Holter monitor, since he doesn't do anything like that in-house so it may take several weeks to get approval from the insurance company, plus who-knows-how-long to get an appointment with the cardiologist. Welcome to "managed care." Then depending on what they find, possibly echocardiogram and stress test. Beyond that, who knows?
Meanwhile, he says "No heavy lifting" but doesn't define "heavy." Fifty pounds? Twenty? So I guess cutting down trees is out for now.
Saturday, January 25, 2014
When I get older losing my hair
Many years from now
Will you still be sending me a valentine
Birthday greetings, bottle of wine?
If I'd been out till quarter to three
Would you lock the door?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four?
This song came out when I was eighteen, and sixty four was an unimaginable distance away -- I mean old! Well, today I quietly turned 64. Funny, I don't feel old. I just feel like me. My life has turned out nothing like I imagined when I was eighteen. Parts of it were hard. Parts of it were lonely. Often I surprised myself with what I accomplished. Sometimes I disappointed myself.
Some people have one great love in their lives; I've been privileged to have two, very different loves. Each has helped me grow.
Life is good.
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