My, do I have something to bitch about!

You see, I’m a big girl. I know that when I get sick, I don’t self-medicate. Too many risks with medications clashing. Learned my lesson there! I’m a good grown-up about things, and get myself to a doctor. You know, go to the hospital, or a clinic for a consult. Because that is what smart grown ups do. They take charge of their shit and do something about it. Not let it escalate.

I’ve been needlessly sick for the past 3 weeks, because people fail to take me seriously.

When I say I need a doctor, it’s because I need a fucking doctor.

But that’s the thing about living with relatives who believe they’ve seen it all, and can cure it all. You say “I’ve been sick for 2 weeks, tried everything you’ve given me, and I’m still not ok. I’m going to a doctor”, and you’re met with ever so charming and pitying laughter, dripping with condescension.

I call my mother for advice. I tell her my logical approach of going to the doctor, and she agrees, but insists it’s poor manners to take charge, and do it behind my relative’s backs.

Fucking bullshit.

So continue to get treated with some other medication for another week, after being scolded for even considering going to the doctor on the basis of escalating fear and paranoia.

Symptoms worsen, I get really scared, so I go to the school nurse, who tells me how much of an idiot I am for waiting so long, and for listening to my family.

Thank you. Thanks for telling me shit I already know.

Knowing full well I can loose a kidney if I keep listening to family, I decide to go for a consult behind everyone’s back, and bitch my mother out for ‘following protocol’. She agrees, saying it’s best not to tell my relatives anything about my inconspicuous escapade.

Which brings me to this lovely outing I’m having, spending the day at the fucking hospital.

I go into the consultation room, where two doctors interview me. I have no idea where on earth they were, these recent med-school graduates during their ‘how to deal with patients’ class, because they followed none of the rules.

You don’t have two people against one, let alone have one sitting, the other standing in what the patient can interpret as a threat. The patient feels cornered, intimidated, and it takes longer for him to open up.

Or in my case, I pull a 180 from being meek and frightened, and it encourages my rebellious, take-charge, ‘bitch, I’m the one making the fucking rules, so you’re going to shut up and listen to what I say’ attitude. So different from my attitude with the nurse, where I was freaking Selina Kyle about the whole thing.

There was no rapport whatsoever. They kept their radios and cellphones on to the point where I had to say “Honey, I can’t answer your questions when I can’t concentrate due to all that noise. Be a doll and turn that shit off. “

I was a very bitchy patient.

And all, because of the lack of empathy on their part, and the lack of rapport.

Great job passing Interview 101.

We get through everything, and it ends up being that half the crap my aunt was giving me was for something else. No fucking wonder I’m still in pain.

So I have to get some tests done, and there goes all the cash I have for the month, because they don’t take credit cards.

I call my mother, tell her what’s going on, and she says I did the right thing.

Thank you, I really did need that validation. Maybe next time people will take me fucking seriously when I say I need a doctor.

I probably wouldn’t be as bitchy if I’d gotten an ounce of sleep last night. Or if I hadn’t fallen asleep during the neuropsych test and failed it. Or… you know, if I wasn’t in so much pain.

But excrutiating pain aside, no use crying over spilled milk.

So now I’m going to have to way 5-7 days for the tests to come back, and we can start treatment.

Fan-fucking-tastic!

My kidneys get to die a miserable death, not even caused by alcohol, which would have at least been worth it. No, they died, because my aunt just had to get some sense of fulfillment and gratification— get a kick to her narcissistic, messiah complex, every time she plays doctor and ‘cures’ someone.

What a great way to spend a the middle of the week. At a hospital. With the prospect of worsening pain for the next 7 days. And no sleep.

I feel bad for whoever decides to irritate me today. Any sense of guilt or restraint is essentially cancelled by the pain and lack of sleep.