I’ve spoken a lot about how highly I’ve always regarded my endo and my PCP. Were it not for them working as a team since the beginning, I doubt a diagnosis ever would have been reached when I was presenting with all of those weird symptoms 5 years ago.
Maybe I thought too much of them. Maybe I set my expectations of them too high. When expectations are that high, there’s really nowhere to go but down and the mighty have fallen in the last month and a half. In that time I’ve had appointments with both of them and the appointments have left me so heartbroken, so disappointed and feeling so deserted by both of them that I’m currently questioning if I even trust my care to them.
It started with my Endo. I went in prepared to pass ongetting on that damn scale for obvious reasons. I went prepared to talk to her about the liberties my employers have been taking with her note stating that I cannot do last minute overnight shifts. I went in prepared to get a little encouragement about how hard I’ve been working to take care of myself even in the midst of all of this stress with school, taking (and passing) my boards, and working two jobs, one of which keeps me awake until the wee hours of the morning, has shuffled my sleep schedule, and has me going on about 4 hours a night – aka “fumes.”
I mentioned the note and how my employers have been doing everything in their power to work around it. She told me “that’s how it goes” and I should expect it in the medical field. I politely told her a planned overnight shift is MUCH different than being told at 11:25, that my shift which was supposed to end at 11:30 is now not ending until 7:15 am. Not only does that leave me without enough healthy choices of food to get through another 8 hours, it demands that I will be awake for over 24 hours. Straight. Despite explaining all of this, she persisted that she couldn't word the note any differently and I just had to get used to it.
Then she breached the topic of me not getting weighed. I told her why. She persisted that she had to get my weight and that she’s not at all worried about my weight because I’m a “skinny Minnie.” I told her that I knew I weighed more than I did last summer. She said that maybe that was too light for where my body wants to be. I (not so) kindly reminded her that she said that was a great weight for me. I told her what I've put my body through in an effort to maintain that weight and how I've been on a dangerous spiral. She still insisted that I get on the scale.
So I walked out of the exam room, in tears, got on the scale – backwards – and proceeded to watch her assistant pull out the red pen.
After that appointment, I was crushed. I felt like my biggest support had just pushed me out of a moving car. She was contradicting herself and the medical opinion that had been at the forefront of my mind and impacting every single decision I made about my body, my appearance, and my self-worth for the last YEAR and she just shrugged it off as if to say “oops, guess not.”
I spent that day agonizing over what had happened. The appointment was so weight focused that I didn’t even hand in my logbook printouts. I realized I still had it with me when I was at the checkout window but I was too upset, embarrassed, and confused to go back. I boycotted diabetes that day. I barely ate anything and I didn't use my lizard spit. And I was fine. My blood sugar did not venture over 120. And the fact that I was fine makes me question her even more. What if the last 5 years were wrong? What if none of it ever had to happen?