There are a few blogs I read all the time. They range from the silly to the stupid, the ridiculous to the sweet.
And then there’s Dr. Grumpy.
He claims to be either a neurologist or a Yak herder. Some days, I can’t tell which is true.
Other days, he rants about hilarious patients, formidable hospital administrations, stupid insurance companies, and his teenage children.
Mostly, he seems slightly out of touch with the Average Joe.
Which leads me to believe he really is a Yak herder, and lives in Nepal. Or a neurologist with little comprehension of what people not making six-figure incomes have to deal with when it comes to health care.
Honestly, I can’t tell.
In general, though, I like him. Not that it matters to the doc, but there it is.
The comments on his blog are often enlightening, too.
Other doctors, PAs, pharmacists, and other healthcare professionals chime in and it’s those people I take issue with the most.
I have lamented, ad nauseum, about the “invisible diseases”, the pain-centered illnesses like fibromyalgia, CFS, arachnoiditis, and CRPS and the treatment sufferers get at the hands of callous health care people.
I get that one can become jaded at the constant barrage of people looking for the pharmacological quick fix. I. Get. That.
What I don’t get is how a doctor, or any other healthcare professional, can look me in the eye and dare to tell me I’m not sick, I’m not hurting, I’m making it all up.
Don’t get me wrong, Dr. Grumpy never goes there. But his followers, the ones who comment, they do. Often.
I always try to point out their ignorance, and am sometimes met with hostility. Sometimes with disdain, and sometimes with arrogance.
I’m rarely treated with compassion.
And that’s what’s wrong. We, the people suffering from the silent illnesses, we deserve the same compassion as the cancer patient, the anxiety patient, hell the “every” patient.
I’ve given up trying to get that compassion from the cold, hard, world-at-large. I’m very lucky my pain doctor is understanding, and that my pharmacist is someone I’ve known for over 20 years. I rarely, if ever, have to deal with the sideways glances and raised eyebrows at my monthly ‘scripts that keep me upright, productive, mobile and happy.
I’m one of the lucky ones, and that too, is so wrong.