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| It it's on candy, it must be true. CANDY DOESN'T LIE. |
Dear tiny, tiny doctor:
Last week, we had a frustrating meeting. You're frustrated, I'm frustrated, my AAC is frustrated.
Frustration all around.
I understand that you are human, and as such are entitled to an off day. I know you can't snap your fingers and fix all that is wrong with me; my only requirement is that you keep trying.
I've encountered this behavior before, from previous doctors. I can recognize the signs: the impatience, the shortness, the annoyance that the treatments aren't working. The bland admonishment to "hang in there and give things a time to work out."
Ordering test after test after invasive, pointless test.
Trying to parse and farm out my ailments; telling me you can only treat my gastrointestinal symptoms.
Telling me you "get it" and that "you're frustrated too."
I'm not so sure that you do get it anymore, and I can guarantee I'm ten times as frustrated by my lack of progress as you'll ever be. At the end of the day, you get to go home, take off your lab coat, and resume your life, free of the digestive complaints you spend your day hearing about. I don't get to clock out at the end of the day.
I'm tried of "hanging in there."
Deep in my heart, I feel like this treatment is not working. We are running out of viable options. The more pills that don't work, the more tests that are inconclusive, the more side effects and strange symptoms I seem to accumulate, the more you seen to step away. This is not my first time at the rodeo: I know a doctor who is distancing himself when I see one.
As much as I posture and pretend, I know I don't know it all. I am, however, the expert on my disease.
When the Prednisone YOU prescribed gives me high blood pressure, don't tell me it could be caused by a preexisting condition. Listen to me when I tell you I've never had a problem with high blood pressure before. Feel free to scroll through my entire medical history to check. I'll give you a minute.
When I complain about being tired, so fucking tired, don't you DARE tell me it's not related to my Crohn's. How can you possibly know with certainty that "there is no way" the disease is causing this amount of exhaustion?
Don't tell me that changing my diet won't help. I'm not a moron: I know flax seeds and green smoothies won't cure my disease, but maybe dietary changes could help alleviate some of my symptoms (the dietitian YOU sent me to agrees, by the way).
You don't know what's going on. I get it. But it's not my fault that my colon isn't being cooperative, and I won't let anyone EVER make me feel to blame me for a disease process that is so obviously out of my control.
Don't get frustrated with me: take it up with my AAC.
If all else fails, be honest. Tell me you're not sure what's happening. Tell me you're looking for answers, or consulting with colleagues. I don't require perfection, only compassion.
You ordered another colonoscopy, my second THIS YEAR, as a last ditch effort to find some answers. As much as I don't want the procedure, I do want clarity. So look for clues in my colon; take some pretty pictures while you're there.
I hope it can give us some direction.
In the end, though, I need a doctor who will keep trying. I need a doctor who will stay positive. I need a doctor who will give me hope when I am feeling hopeless.
If you can't do that anymore, I will find someone who can.
I'm not giving up on you just yet: don't give up on me either.
Sincerely,
AAC
