So, Doctor Quack has me in his office and I'm trying to make sure he doesn't touch me inappropriately as he regularly did to other young girls. I'm also doubled over in severe pain at that point, because of Crohn's Disease.
He looked me straight in the eye and said, "If you weren't so mean to your mother, you wouldn't be in pain. I'm not going to do anything for your pain because you don't deserve relief."
Mean? You've got to be kidding! I spent my first 17 years on this rock trying to take care of her, despite the abuses she heaped upon me.
7/11. My husband is bald. There. I said it. (Actually it’s not embarrassing at all as I find his baldness attractive.)
But, his doctor did not.
He went in for his annual physical for work and the doctor prescribed him Minoxidil (without asking my husband if he wanted it).
Having worked in the pharmacy industry, I looked at my husband’s prescriptions when he came home and asked him if he wanted to regrow his hair. He said no he just took what the doctor wrote him scripts for. (He has a tendency to over-prescribe.)
So that doctor just assumed that my husband had a problem with being bald.
Huge insult… especially since I love his bald head.
8/11. I once had a bad case of pink eye (conjunctivitis.) I suppose that during my period of discomfort I must have rubbed it into the other eye as well. So I would up with two blood-shot eyes that felt like they were full of grinding glass.
I phoned my boss half-way through my shift and told him I simply had to go to the emergency room. The wait was long because they had to prioritize some people ahead of me. Understandable. My case was not life-threatening.
As soon as I got into the emergency room the doctor gave me a baleful and accusatory glare, cocked his head and crossed his arms. "You know how people get pink eye, don't you?" he said. (continued...)