[Rowing Machine] 2021: Week 33 {226.5} “Months For Treatment?”

I told my doctor’s office that they were being irresponsible with my health. I had loyalties to my current primary care physician/PCP because whenever I talked to him, he seemed like he was willing to help and get things going in the right direction. When I was told to schedule an appointment, find that appointments are booked nearly a month out, when I’ve been waiting months for treatment, well, I’m not super happy with him.

I will probably be looking for another doctor in another healthcare facility.

I imagined that he would have routed me along to another doctor, based on the conversation my chiropractor told me he had with my PCP, so I would have assumed things would have gone in that direction. Maybe an email saying “I talked with your chiropractor, and we think you should see this doctor.” This sort of lack of concern from patient care I’ve seen with nurses is not new. My PCP’s nurses were comically unable to understand how to navigate their way through working URLs some time back, and it appears that my having updated him on this information did not actually go to him, because his useless staff replied instead of him.

I was told the doctor wanted to talk to me about any changes.

I replied back by saying that I had no new information for him and this issue has been going on for months. What new things could I tell him? He’s not concerned about my health because if he were, he would have told his assistants to guide me in a different direction. Instead, he’s willing to have me waiting another near-month to then wait some months for further treatment. I applied one of the Lidocaine patches that don’t work to my back after I had a spine flare-up as I was shaving. Does he want to know that? He didn’t seem to have much of an idea of what to do before, so does he want to express empathy toward me now?

I hate the American Healthcare System as a whole.

I hate that this is how my life has gone. I get 5 to 7 bad spine flare-ups per week. They are psychedelic in nature with the amount of pain that shoots through my body. Does he want to know that? Let’s say that he cared about his family, and a family member of his told him this information. Would he conclude – “yes, yes, let’s wait a few more months for treatment” – and collect a co-payment on his way out the door? Before seeing how this was handled, I would say no, but because this same person has not been able to communicate well with me before, I now begin to doubt the doctor.

It sure would be nice to go get groceries.

This doctor is a big hockey fan. I will never be able to play hockey, and I can’t even leave my apartment to even think of doing anything even remotely recreational. One year ago, I found myself being referred to the emergency room by my first pain management doctor over an issue that has only gotten worse. Yes, it would be productive for me to tell this to the doctor. After I told him that his two other referrals were garbage. He probably wants to convince me to try one of those other options again. He seemed to place all of his faith in the third pain management doctor, who I said lacked the knowledge for effective treatment of pain.

It’s really fucking awful.

I’m mad and sad about this. This is why it’s important not to place your faith in human beings. Humans fail you. All of these doctors are probably good enough people, except the second pain management doctor, who was charming during my first meeting with him. I am losing hope in the American Healthcare System and this is what really is getting bad for me. I’ve seen over 20 doctors and none of them seem to have anything to actually help me. They either prescribe me harmful medications that make me feel sick, prescribe ineffective treatments, or shrug me off because my case is too complicated for them.

I know what I will never be able to do again.

All of the activities stolen from me are fine. I am OK with that. What I’m not OK with is dealing with people like this that refuse to accept that I am a human being that has a severe physical disability that needs to be treated. I’m not even put on a waiting list. At least that gives a sort of abstract reassurance that things are going to be OK. Instead, I’m told to wait to go talk to a doctor about no new information, besides things are getting worse, and then be put on a waiting list to be seen by a doctor that might either give me harmful medications, ineffective medications, or bullshit run-arounds. No wonder I chose to sit on this for a few days. I mentally can’t handle this sort of malpractice mistreatment from people that so clearly lack the empathy to want to help – even if they can’t.

I don’t even have a diagnosis for this.

They want to cover their asses by doing everything to show that it’s not in a MRI or X-ray and so they can send me in a loop between the doctors that might help. Pain doctors think it’s a spine issue. Spine doctors think it’s a pain issue. A doctor that does both thinks it’s not worth the time. They don’t care about my life. This is when the darkest thoughts enter into my mind. These doctors, these doctors’s assistants, and these medical professionals don’t care about my life in the slightest, and to them, my life is only an email approaching a 48-hour reply window to be answered as evasively as possible. Why would they care about me as a patient or human being?

I’ll go to another doctor, then.

Endtable
Quotes: None.
Sources: My fitness experiences.
This week’s weight: 226.5
Last week’s weight: 224.5
Weight Difference: Two pounds up
Difference between writing and editing for publication: I’ve been eating more food. I ended up going to a different doctor and will soon be getting treatment soon.
Inspirations: I’m not happy with this situation.
Related: Past weekly column entries. Sober Living essays and Tripping On [The American Healthcare System] chapters.
Pictures: Template
Written On: 2021 July 06 [10:29pm to 10:51pm]
Last Edited: 2021 July 06 [First draft; final draft for the Internet.]
My big goal is writing. My most important goal is writing "The Story." All other goals should work toward that central goal. My proudest moment is the most recent time I overcame some fear, which should have been today. I'm a better zombie than I was yesterday. I'm not better than you and you're not better than me. Let's strive to be better every day.