I left my neurologist’s appointment very dissatisfied, not fully understanding what he told me.  The frustrated feeling of not having information filled me once again as it did so many times before with so many other doctors.  This time I actually felt he didn’t want me to understand after he said “Don’t worry about it.  Let me worry about it.”  I knew darn well he’d forget about me a few minutes after he put my chart away and not remember me until his receptionist put my chart in front of him to review my next MRI.  This was not sitting well with me.

 

It made me think about the cause of this invisible communication barrier between patients and doctors.  I think the problem is that medical school is very physically demanding.  It requires little sleep, lots of energy, and the ability to be on call for 72 hour shifts.  This requires very healthy young people who have never had major health problems in their life.  By its very nature it weeds out all people who were ever actually sick before they ever reach medical school.

 

It guarantees that doctors don’t know what it is like to be sick, scared, lost, and alone in a forest of confusing symptoms, and technical terminology.  It also guarantees that doctors will not understand what it is like to be sick, to have a chronic illness that has mysteriously plagued them for years, to be told they are a hypochondriac, or to be told they have a serious disease.

 

It puts a definite barrier between patient and doctor that I have yet to climb over with my own neurologist.

 

It’s implies that patients must be prepared for every doctor’s appointment with a written list of things they want to talk about (symptoms and questions).  They must take a friend or family member to each appointment (a person who is willing to speak up during the visit).  They must be politely forceful in explaining themselves, and they must not let themselves be rushed.  Unfortunately, this takes a very strong person, and when you are sick you are sometimes at your weakest.

 

Suggested ways for preparing for doctors appointments, and over coming the doctor/patient barrier.

 

 

Unfortunately following the suggested steps and list of questions regarding visits to the doctor does not always guarantee a good doctor’s appointment as my experience demonstrates.  I walked out of my appointment hating the phrase “Don’t worry about it.  Let me worry about it.”, because I’d heard it at least 20 times in response to the same group of questions asked in different ways.  I guess I thought by asking them in a different way I’d trick him into answering them, but he just ‘didn’t want me to worry about it’.  (I interpreted this phase to be:  I will only inform you about what I want you to know about.)

 

I smiled, got up, shook his hand, and left thinking I didn’t like the man at all and wishing I had a different doctor.  (Even if he was good looking and young).

 

 

Caitlynne