I am 23 years old. I should be in the prime of my life. For some reason though God has chosen me to deal with a mystery disease that no doctor has been able to pinpoint the cause yet. I have been tested for everything from arthritis, to allergies, to lyme disease to MS. It's scary. I try not to let it get to me, but I am growing weary and tired from dealing with it and that is why I went to a DO.
My history with doctors is not a swell one. I don't trust them any farther than I can throw them. (This excluding my family members who are in the medical world, because they are my family and obviously I trust family). In the case of today I realized that this "best DO in the metroplex" was just trying to get a paycheck and I could not be more upset about it.
Today I sat in a room with my husband almost in tears because the DO came in and rattled off a lot of stuff about my blood work from a week ago in his doctor lingo. I tried to tell him what had been going on and he just kept talking. I never saw him again after that brief 3 minutes. I am so tired. I am so tired of not being heard.
This post really doesn't have a point besides the fact that I hope that my path leads me to a doctor who will actually care.
Sidenote. The DO today looked like he may have been wearing the same clothes he wore to a bar last night, he spent more time on his long hair than he did in the room with me, and I could see all his tattoos, including the one that said Bridget on his arm. I am not against any of this but I am if you act like he did. Like I was messing up his ping pong time. Yes, while Nate and I were sitting there confused after he left from lack of description of the tests he wanted done and why, we heard a ping pong tournament going on in the room next to us.
You better believe Mr. DO will be getting a FAILED survey from me when they call for one!
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