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 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.

Tomorrow I will post suggested ways for preparing for doctors appointments, and over coming this barrier.

Caitlynne