Special Torture (or how to grin and bear it)

A second opinion

August 2, 2012 / by admin

It’s time for a second opinion.

I could list all the things that my reproductive endocrinologist has done, not done, said, not said, forgotten, glossed over, fucking made light of,  or simply shrugged off, and maybe you would get how disappointed and angered I am by this woman, but well, it’s a long list.  I am not even sure where to start. So I’ll begin with today – Today, in a follow-up ultrasound, she could not find my right ovary. Yeah, I wrote that.  She informed me this made sense since they must have removed it [MY OVARY] durring my cystectomy back in February. Um, no. They did not remove my ovary.  I expressed my disbelief and she felt compelled to check my records.  “Oh right. In your post-op, it was there”. Yeah, I knew that.

So, I get that docs are busy people. I get that it’s hard for them. I do not always have the best days on the job, but it would be nice if she knew who the fuck she was talking to. Look at my records before you walk into the room, woman! I do not know how many times I had remind her that I have an obstructed fallopian tube.

“Oh but your left ovary looks wonderful”, she muses.

“But my left fallopian tube is blocked” I reminder her.

“Oh”, she says time and time again.

So yeah, today she can’t find my right ovary. Awesome. Totally inspires confidence.

And lets not forget, she is the doc that has taken my long, in depth medical history. The lady that knows, I have HHT and had a stroke when I was 23, yet this is the same lady that advices me to consider the AMIGOS study. The same study that I do not, and never will, qualify for since I had a stroke. Maybe it’s just hard to keep track of it all. Or maybe she is just a thoughtless piece of shit. Sorry. I know that’s harsh, but that is how it all makes me feel – like a piece of shit… That I spent 8 months hanging on her every diagnosis, her every word. Hoping, against hope that I will hear something that I can trust and count on.

I would LOVE to hear her defense. LOVE to give her a chance to explain her shitty care, but she interrupts me. She shrugs her shoulders. She explains that a missing ovary is nothing to worry about and walks out of the room. For real.

So anyway, time for a second opinion. Hospital #2, you are up.


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