Seeking the Healer

August 12, 2021

I’m still so shaken from my experience yesterday. So I’m going to write about it.

 

Again I’m writing in bed, this time in blue floral pj shorts. I’ve just made a pot of tea in which I mixed the Assam Spice with a Taylors black. My socked feet feel snug and I wish my heart and mind would feel the same. I’m more confused than ever about seeking medical help for my symptoms.

 

Many of us, I’m sure, have had health issues that left us fearful and unnerved, scrambling to find answers but instead being sent down a seemingly endless rabbit hole of investigations. I’m sure in many cases the tests were needed to provide more information for proper diagnosis and treatment. I’ve met many excellent specialists in my time on this earth. 

 

But, I’m also sure that many of us have met doctors that left us wondering if there was something wrong with us for asking questions, for trying to understand more about the tests being ordered, for simply wanting someone to listen carefully to the genesis and process of the symptoms. I think we’ve probably also met doctors who seem to have forgotten that the organ they are treating is situated in a body with other organs and tissues and vessels interacting with it, and all of these are part of a human being with a mind of her own, who is seeking an expert opinion but also can think for herself. 

 

Last week I met an eye doctor who left me feeling rather stupid and blaming myself for asking for him to have a look at my eye before his assistant began administering drops and tests. It took a while to absolve myself of  my need for reassurance from the doctor that the drops would not further aggravate my symptoms and I still am wondering if indeed all is ok with my eye. I didn’t tick that box.

 

Yesterday I walked into the office of an ENT feeling very hopeful for answers. I liked the room with no carpet and soft lighting. There were several patients already there. We waited a long time, almost an hour, after my appointment time, to see the doctor. What surprised me right away was that there was no desk in the room, just a bench on one side where my spouse sat and the chair in which the nasal scope was done. The doctor was standing throughout. In ten minutes I was out of the room, having finished with the scope and other investigations, and on my way for a CT scan. 

 

The scan centre was quiet and I felt relieved to have space to think. The specialist had barely spoken to me but I thought, perhaps he would after the scan. The CT staff were these two sweet women who were very kind to me. Back up and another wait. I read ‘Three O Clock in the Morning’ on my phone. Many people with films in plastic bags like the one I had, traipsed in and out. One woman in deep green top and stylish black shorts came out with a bent head, she slumped on to a stool and her companion went close and squeezed her shoulder. He was carrying a plastic bag and went to talk to the receptionist. My heart went out to with the woman's exhausted demeanour. I was called in. When we entered the room my scans were already up and he pointed out that my sinuses were relatively clear. I was confused, I felt the post nasal drip constantly on my left side trickling into my mouth and down the throat. He said yes, there is fluid there leaking down. The next step is an MRI. But I will be away from Saturday for six weeks and need to get it all done tomorrow. 

 

I asked why I needed the MRI. What more would it show. He got angry. I felt like a fussy, demanding, troublemaker. Do you want to do it or not, he said. I crumbled. Neither of us had sat down during the minutes I was in the room. 

 

I went outside and was given the MRI slip and instructions on what to do the next day. I couldn't identify what I felt. I thought about the woman in the green top. 

 

I’ve been spoilt by having excellent family doctors since childhood. First the father and then the son. Careful listeners, not prescribing too many tests or meds, looking up information on new advances, treating according to symptoms described and not just medical reports. They sent, and sometimes accompanied, us to specialists. Here in Singy too I found a meticulous GP with a patient ear, whom I adore. Both my spouse and I have had to have emergency-ish procedures. Me for my bleeding uterus and gall bladder stone, him for kidney stones. Those times were stressful but I don’t remember feeling the agitation, confusion and sleeplessness I experienced over these weeks. The difference of course was that the specialists sat down across the table, showed on tablets or computer screens, why they were recommending what they were. Carefully answered all queries like experts who were talking to humans with thinking brains. Also, except in the case of the kidney stone lodged painfully in the ureter, we were told to take our time to decide. 

 

None of this happened over these last weeks. I came home last evening, called my daughter on speaker to help think things through, and cancelled the MRI. I will wait. I deserve a doctor who actually sits down and talks to his patients. I can’t describe how unnerving that was. Both my spouse and I felt like he couldn’t wait to have us out of his room. But, the worst thing was, as I said above, that I left feeling like I was a trouble maker. Also unfortunately I haven’t been able to tick any more boxes and the origin of the symptoms is unknown. 

 

At night I was sleepless and finished ‘Three O Clock in the Morning’ at 1 am, returned the book and promptly borrowed another and read for a while longer. I slept barely 4 hours but feel better for deciding to slow things down. I think two pots of tea and writing this also helped. Our family doctor passed away in May after a long hospitalisation for covid. I wish I could speak to him. He was a healer and not just a doctor. 

 

What would you have done in similar circumstances? Would love to hear good and bad stories of your experiences with doctors.