4:22am October 31, 2013

➸ So My Doctor Tried to Kill Me

note-a-bear:

sugarkat:

note-a-bear:

kyssthis16:

lifeforliberation:

nudiemuse:

gendermom:

unapologeticfatty:

I’ve been anemic several times in my life. I noticed that I was having the symptoms so I told my acupuncturist. My acupuncturist requested that I get a blood panel confirming and, like an idiot, I went to my doctor. They told me to step on the scale and I said “No thank you” which always gets us off to a rockin’ start. The nurse opened my folder and her eyes went wide (I assume that my previous doctor had made notes about the cholesterol test debacle (which you can read about in my blog post “A Tale of Two Cholesterol Tests”). Regardless, whatever she read shook her so much that she forgot to take my blood pressure. She left, the doctor entered and that’s where the fun starts.

Doctor: What seems to be the problem?

Me: I think I’m anemic, I’m having the following symptoms….

Doctor: At your weight, it’s diabetes. Lose 50 pounds and come back.

Me: (remaining calm) I’m happy to entertain that as a possibility, but I’m going to want a blood test to confirm.

Doctor: (handing me a diet and exercise sheet) It’s really not necessary, no matter what is wrong with you, you’ll feel a lot better if you lose 50 pounds.

Me: Be that as it may, I’m going to insist on a blood test. It’s not like I’m asking you to pay for it. Also, this exercise sheet says that I should start by walking 10 minutes a day. I currently work out about 20 hours a week so should I stop all that and substitute a brisk walk? It would certainly save me a lot of time, but I doubt it would have the intended results.

Doctor: (sighing heavily and looking at me as if I’m definitely a liar) Fine, I’ll do the test.

I wait, he comes back.

Doctor: Your glucose is 72.

Me: Isn’t that basically perfect?

Doctor: Yes, but you probably still have diabetes, we just need to test you at different times.

Me: (now beginning to lose patience) In the meantime, could we perhaps do a test for, oh – I don’t know…anemia?

Doctor: I suppose.

I wait, he comes back

Doctor: Well, you have anemia.

Me: (positively dripping with sarcasm) That’s so WEIRD, that’s what I thought I had!

Now, out of curiosity, if I had followed your diet and exercise sheet as you requested and managed to lose the two pounds per week that you want me to lose, unlike the 95% of people who fail, it would have taken me 25 weeks. What would have happened if I had dieted while my anemia went untreated for 25 weeks? And since you seemed to be stumped with that one, let me ask you another… How many other people have you done this too? How any people have become sick or died at your hand because you looked at them and diagnosed them as “fat”?

Doctor: I think we would have noticed if things didn’t improve once you had lost 25lbs.

Me: Really? I doubt it. It seems to me that you pulled 50 pounds out of your ass, since you don’t have my weight or height. So I doubt that 25 pounds would have been a magic number that made you pay attention to my actual symptoms. Also, you didn’t answer my question, what would have happened?

Doctor: I guess you could have technically died…

Me: I’m leaving, and I’m not paying for this.

Doctor: Of course.

What about you? Do you have doctor stories – good, bad, funny, interesting? Please feel free to put them in the comments below.

-Ragen Chastain, from So My Doctor Tried To Kill Me

“technically died”

as opposed to…?

YOO! I snapped so hard at the end! “I’m leaving, and I’m not paying for this.”

forever cheering for fat people standing up to cruel doctors

But fat stigma is totally not a problem right?

that fucker needs to lose their license

I got to “technically died” and had to stop before I threw my laptop. But fatphobia is so not a thing, huh? Oh, okay.

Man, and this shit only gets compounded worse when you’re a POC.

I had a similar situation, where I had no indicators for diabetes except my weight, and a doctor literally said to my face “You’re pre-diabetic, I want you to start taking Metformin” and I was like “But…I’m not. The results of my blood work literally say I’m perfectly healthy.” And the doctor looked at me like I said I ate glass every morning.

I just…*knock wood* I haven’t had any major illnesses, yet, but the worst part of that situation was that when I was asked if/when I exercise I guessed that I did about an hour or two a week regularly (between playing physical games with friends and just the nature/way our campus was set up was super not accessible, making everything pretty much some sort of cardio), and even my *mother* said “Oh, don’t lie”

:|

Like…..my heart just hurts thinking about it, especially when I think about how much worse it could have been and is for other folks

When one considers race bias combined with size bias, it blows my mind that certain populations get any decent medical care at all. (I’m betting they usually don’t.)

It’s shit like that that keeps me from getting medical treatment.

I’d go in for shingles, I’d get a lecture about my weight and yet another blood test showing that I don’t have diabetes. I don’t get treatment for shingles.

I’d go in because I was in a car accident, I’d get a lecture about my weight, a recommendation I use an online site to teach myself yoga (which is a fantastic way to injure myself even more), and yet another blood test showing I don’t have diabetes. I don’t get treatment for the injuries related to the accident. (I’m still suffering from that, actually. It’s amazing how much movement is related to your neck and upper back. And how much damage post-concussion insomnia can do.)

I’d go in because I need someone to do something about my PCOS, I’d get a lecture about my weight (no shit, really?) and a blood test, not related to my hormones, but testing me for diabetes. I still don’t have diabetes, but I do have PCOS, and no one is willing to treat it.

Please bear in mind that these blood tests would sometimes happen three times a month, and I have associative trypanophobia so severe, I’ll occasionally pass out. The stress these blood tests put me under for no good reason was pretty extreme.

I’ve had those diet plan sheets handed to me, then given them back, telling the doctor I don’t eat meat, so much of the diet sheet won’t work for me, because I’m eating a diet lower in fats than the one the doctor gave me. It’s amazing the sputtering involved after I inform them I eat better than they do. “How many times a week do you eat dessert?” “Maybe once every couple of weeks. How about you?” *sputter*

My weight is related to my system being fucked up because of my untreated PCOS. You’d think they’d want to treat my PCOS. No. They just want to fat-shame me and insist I must be diabetic.

Fuck these doctors. Fuck them sideways with a crowbar. Then send them to the Rudd Center.

^^^^^^^^^

This is why we can’t trust doctors.

This is why I get visibly upset to the point of blinding rage whenever there’s a teaser on the news for “the obesity epidemic”

This is why I get rankled whenever the only positive comments folks can come up with are “You lost weight”

This is why I just fucking cannot.

It can also be really fun when you DO have diabetes, which is totally unrelated to your size. Especially coming from a (non-White) group of people who are significantly bigger on average—even when thin—than doctors are used to seeing where you are living now.

One of the reasons I am having to try to manage it and some other previously brushed off and misdiagnosed chronic health problems my own now. The results are no worse (though still not very good!) so far—without having to listen to a bunch of insulting, bullying, ED triggering horseshit as a substitute for effective treatment.