Instances health care professionals were less than professional – and less than caring

September 2012

Having struggled with anxiety all my life, in September of 2012 I started suffering from what seemed like mild panic attacks. I had been diagnosed with MS nine months before and found out that Avonex not only wasn’t doing anything to prevent disease progression but it was also messing up my liver and thyroid. Plus, due to bureaucracies I had to wait before being able to move to another drug. My chest had begun to hurt, right where my heart is supposed to be, and when it hurt really bad I had trouble breathing. It even got to the point I wondered if I had heart problems. So I went to see my psychiatrist.

Now, I’m fairly open to taking suggestions and trying new things if that means there’s hope my symptoms will improve. But my psychiatrist just went: “I’m not going to prescribe you anything. You see, what you learn from a disease like MS is that you don’t really control anything in your life, so you shouldn’t worry so much.”

So I just spent 70 euros on “expert” advice that I could have heard from my mom, dad, boyfriend and closest friends… for free? Thanks, doc. What’s next? Telling me to smoke some weed?

I never saw him again. Found myself a new psychiatrist who listens and cares. She prescribed me Escitalopram and my chest never hurt again.

November 2012

My mother suggested I saw an acupuncturist so off I went. I kept telling him about my fatigue, blurred vision and trouble sleeping but he didn’t seem to listen because all he wanted to treat was my legs, despite the fact that I stressed I had never had mobility issues. But that wasn’t the worst. One day, as I was telling him about my symptoms and some of my fears, he said there were a lot more complicated situations out there, and went on talking about the work he did with children with cancer.

Dear Mr Acupuncturist,

I’m not a total moron and I’m perfectly aware there is a lot of misery and suffering out there, and things that just don’t make sense and are just not fair. But since I hired you to see if there was anything you could do for me, can you at least for these sixty minutes focus on me? Then we can both go on worrying about people who are suffering more than me. I can even buy a “suffering meter” to see who qualifies.

And as if this wasn’t enough, I noticed my mother somehow knew about things I had never told her but had mentioned to him. Have you ever heard of confidentiality, Mr Acupuncturist? Privacy, maybe? Trust? I can’t even…

April 2013

I went to see another neurologist to hear yet another opinion about all MS drugs available, their risks and benefits. As we were discussing second-line treatments, which heavily suppress many functions of your immune system, he said something as unbelievable as, “You needn’t worry about catching something like, let’s say, AIDS, ’cause you’re not gay.”

Dear universe, did I travel back in time and I’m in the 80s again? Am I speaking to a doctor or a religious fundamentalist? Should this person be practicing medicine? I’m puzzled.

September 2013

I found out I have endometriosis. My gynecologist said, “We’re gonna need to operate as soon as possible. I’m going to schedule all the pre-op exams.”

I wasn’t happy about undergoing surgery, so I went for a second opinion. Doctor said “I’m not going to operate a 30 year-old who’s never had children and who has another condition like MS without at least trying some medication first.”

Bless you, doctor. Medication is working, my cyst is almost invisible now and my ovaries are still intact. You’ll always be my gynecologist.

April 2014

I have a new primary care physician. I went to see her, tell her about my conditions and what generally life is like for me. That’s when she says, “A lot of people with MS are able to do pretty much everything in their lives, why can’t you?”

If ignorance were music, you’d be the national orchestra, doc.

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Survival instinct kicks in

The first time I actually felt my survival instinct running in full mode was when I was diagnosed. While I was trying to keep my head above the water, get used to injections and side effects, and manage the overwhelming amount of info about multiple sclerosis I would have to become familiar with, I looked around me and everything seemed superficial, futile and vain. I knew I was being unfair, but people’s worries, problems and troubles irritated me. It all seemed pretty meaningless. I resented the fact that people were carefree enough to look for mindless entertainment. I was focusing all my energies in being well while everyone else was on Facebook talking about the latest random video or trend. Another funny thing that happened was that my creativity was gone for a while. I’m always full of ideas and there are constantly voices in my head playing parts in short stories that I sometimes like to write. Suddenly the voices were quiet. Imagination thrives in empty spaces, and there was no room inside my mind for anything other than MS and being fine.

Although at a much smaller scale, I’m getting hints of that feeling again. Right now I have to decide between a drug that might give me progressive multifocal leukoencephalopathy and another drug that might give me heart problems, knowing that both will shut down key functions of my immune system and thus I won’t be protected against infections and possibly tumors. At the same time people want me to engage in the usual office gossip of who’s backstabbing who, ask me if I’m counting the days until I see my infatuation again (who?) and expect me to remember about a concert or show I wanted to go to? I just feel like screaming.

Meanwhile, my mother has made clear that she isn’t happy about me taking any of those drugs. She didn’t need to tell me though, because two years ago we had the same discussion when I switched from Avonex to Copaxone. My mother has a cure for my multiple sclerosis: if I never leave my house again, only eat what she cooks and spend my time doing yoga, meditation and acupuncture, I won’t need anything else. She just forgets this isn’t very practical – or worth living for, for that matter.

So my survival instinct has been obsessively listing everything I’ve been doing for the past three years – and some of them for longer – to prove that I really can’t do more or better than I am already doing, and that this disease is simply unpredictable, random and not my fault. I have been:

  • Eating the best I can. I have a varied Mediterranean diet, that includes a lot of fruits, vegetables, soup, nuts, and fatty fish. I started drinking 2 liters of water a day. Though I didn’t eliminate them completely, I cut down on dairy, gluten and meat, as I found I have more energy if I don’t eat as much. I never had a sweet tooth so I never ate much refined sugar. I don’t have pre cooked meals at home. When I eat out, I look for the best options. Yes, I occasionally have a pizza, but I don’t think it’s one occasion here or there that’s going to kill me.
  • Exercising. The past ten years I did cardio fitness, yoga, pilates, contemporary dance and floor barre. This year, as I don’t have much time to enroll in activities due to having classes at night, I go running and I also do stretching exercises at home. They help me keep sane.
  • Meditating. Although I don’t meditate as often and as regularly as I would like to, I notice I’ve been able to improve some of my cognitive functions. I’ve also been sleeping and resting better.
  • Taking more breaks. This was something I didn’t use to do. I now take breaks during the workday, pick an evening every week to not do anything after work, say no more often and try to manage my vacation time in a more balanced way through the year.
  • Taking my vitamin D supplements. Doctor tells me to take them, so I do.
  • Seeing a psychiatrist regularly, and keeping my anxiety and depression as far away from me as possible with a little help from medication that prevents huge mood swings and insomnia.
  • Doing psychotherapy and cognitive-behavioral therapy. Yes, I see two different therapists, but the work they’re doing complements each other. I credit both of them for believing in me and not letting me lose my mind all these years when relationships, responsibilities, work, disappointments and health issues just seemed too much.
  • Looking for intellectual and social stimuli. Since my job keeps me in a bubble and doesn’t give me much room to grow, I have enrolled in courses and seminars that might interest me, meeting new and interesting people along the way.
  • Trying to learn how to manage stress. This isn’t something you learn overnight, but I’ve been consciously paying more attention to the signs my body sends me and trying to worry less, take things less personally and put them in perspective. And also not be too hard on myself when I forget about this and get caught up by stress once again. I will get there slowly.

So, mom, am I missing something?

~Am I running out of resources?

Or am I just trying too hard?~