It’s Not Urgent and They Don’t Care

By Mia Maysack, PNN Columnist

There are no words to convey the extent that I, along with so many others, have endured medical trauma. It’s even more impossible for us to get those who haven't to understand what it's like or the toll that it takes.

A loved one of mine had an injury not too long ago that required a small dose of medical hoop jumping. Just the tip of the broken-healthcare-system-iceberg was enough to leave a lasting impression on them, to the extent they still haven't stopped complaining about it.

But when I attempted to express my own fresh experience with said iceberg, this same person described me as "too sensitive." That is dreadfully inaccurate, especially when you consider I've lived this way for over two decades and they had one adverse experience.

My aim is not to belittle or attempt competitive victimization. I understand how health problems impact us on different levels and in various ways. I simply find the lack of empathy -- yet the simultaneous expectation of it -- to be painfully fascinating.

Within the last few weeks, I've been hospitalized multiple times, essentially back-to-back for the same issue. That's part of what being chronically ill looks like. The difference between these recent visits, as opposed to all the others, is the spite I feel for providers who are supposed to be working for me.

I currently don’t have a primary care provider, so my only option when I have an urgent need is to go to a hospital emergency department. I was in one recently at two o’clock in the morning, freezing on a cot in an isolated exam room.

A nurse came in for the rundown as to why I was there, followed by a brief appearance from a doctor who didn't make eye contact or even face me. He kept his back turned while working on a computer.

The nurse proceeded to speak about me and my situation with Doctor Awesome, as if I was not even there. I interrupted their conversation, because I’ve already endured enough lack of bedside manner and respectfully expressed my concerns and wishes.  I asked for an exam and tests to ensure my medical issue wasn’t progressing, I also needed a prescription to relieve side effects from a medicine I was taking to manage my complications.

After laying all this out in a concise, professional manner, Dr. Awesome finally decides to turn around to face me and dryly asks, “So what brings you in tonight?”

Stunned, I politely responded that I’d previously been to this ER and was advised to return if needed. His reply was that my requests are more of a “clinic thing” and “weren’t necessary.” He then dismissed himself and I did not see him again for the hours I was left alone there. He did not come back to check on me before discharge or bother to report the results of my testing. No one did.

An assistant I hadn’t seen before eventually popped in and provided more warmth than anyone else I’d encountered, just by saying, “Awww, you do not look like you feel very well.” 

I thanked her for the acknowledgement and asked for an exam from anybody who was qualified -- it certainly didn’t need to be Dr. Awesome. She was appalled that I had to ask and left promptly to flag someone down.

So now another person I had never met and who didn’t bother introducing themselves, came in and spent less than a minute with me before they left.

At a different point in my journey, this sort of encounter would’ve completely shattered me, because of how low and how long I’ve been knocked down by those entrusted to aid in healing

Those days are over. Today, I’ll stop at nothing to pursue and obtain what’s in my best interests. Instead of feeling depleted after mistreatment like this, I internalize it as empowerment. I’ve made the decision to give up on them instead of myself, and to continue battling for the sake of my life quality. Even if that means fighting against the harm that they vowed not to inflict in the first place. 

Mia Maysack lives with chronic migraine, cluster headache and fibromyalgia. She is the founder of Keepin’ Our Heads Up, a Facebook advocacy and support group, and Peace & Love, a wellness and life coaching practice for the chronically ill.