Reporting in today – in bad news, I’m still not exercising or walking like i need to. The days slip by and suddenly it’s evening and i’m looking at 2,500 steps on my fitbit and shrugging, oh, well, tomorrow’s another day…
In good news – i hit a new weight range just since last week. The 158’s showed up on my scale. We’re looking at 158.2 – 161. That’s pretty exciting!
In other good news – i got my 3 month lab results back and my glucose level was just under the diagnosis of diabetes! That’s right. I’m now at high risk for diabetes instead of being about a point and a half over the line into diabetes.
I am particularly pleased about this – on top of just being pleased for its own sake – because it follows on an unpleasant experience at my doctor’s office. I went in thinking he’d be pleased with my 10 pound weight loss and lower glucose readings, although we didn’t have the A1C (the 3 month test) yet.
Instead, he was super negative and told me different standards for the readings than the nurse practitioner had told me that put my readings in a more negative light. I had brought in a blood pressure cuff for him to check for accuracy (one that Sir’s cardiologist had said was accurate) and he was dismissive of the cuff before he even checked it. (“We can check it, but that doesn’t look like the kind that’s going to do what we need it to do.)
When I had first gotten there, the nurse took my blood pressure and it was good. After about 10 minutes with the doctor, after I was pretty upset, he took it again and it was up. He was patronizing and condescending about that, and when I said something about it having been lower earlier in the visit, he said that the nurse’s reading had probably not been accurate because I was so overweight, my arm was too thick to get an accurate reading.
Y’all. Yes, I am obese. But my arm is not the thickest arm around by any means. If I’m too fat to get an accurate blood pressure reading, I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in that. And really – if they can’t get an accurate reading, why are they even checking it??
They told me to check my blood pressure with the cuff I had brought in so they could see if it was accurate, and I started to do that. The nurse took it off the arm I’d put it on and strapped it to the other arm. Then she held my arm so I couldn’t move it. This cuff has a light sensor that lets you know when your arm is in the right position to get a reading, and she wouldn’t let me move my arm to adjust it, and when I tried to explain, neither of them acknowledged that I was even talking, she just said to him, “I’m not getting any warm fuzzies about this cuff,” in a real disparaging tone, and I gave up and let her take it off.
The visit went downhill from there, if you can imagine, with more conversation about why my BP might be high and the state of the country. It ended with him telling me I needed to quit watching the news so much so I wouldn’t be upset about things I couldn’t control. He did not actually pat me on the head, or tell me not to worry my pretty little head about it, it just felt like he did. Oh, and he told me maybe I needed therapy for my anger problem.
Let me be clear. I was angry. I didn’t yell, I didn’t call him names or cuss at him. But when I checked my records on-line a few days later? As I suspected, he had added “Anger Outbursts” to my list of diagnosis. For the record, having feelings and getting diagnosed with anger outbursts are not the same thing.
I came home from the appointment all upset. Fortunately, I was able to make an appointment with another doctor and have just been waiting to get the lab results back before I requested they send my records to the new place. I really do think the doctor I’ve been seeing is a condescending, patronizing jerk who embodies the worst aspects of the patriarchy.
At the same time, I recognize that my reactions to him may be heightened based on some early childhood experiences with being in the hospital. As it is, just remembering my appointment with him, I can feel my heart rate go up and my chest feels tight and my breathing gets shallow – as if I might be on the verge of a panic attack, I’m pretty sure that’s too extreme a reaction for just remembering this doctor’s appointment. I might come back and talk about how I think this links to that early childhood trauma in the hospital, but for now, I just console myself with the knowledge that I’m a grown up and fortunate enough to have good insurance and a bit of money so I don’t have to tolerate this doctor’s attitude any more.
Anyhow. Thanks for reading this very non-kinky post. Next time, I’ll tell you about date night and the benefits of a good spanking. (In case you didn’t already know!)