Recently I made another stab at finding a doctor who might offer suggestions as to the pain in my abdomen.
At my husband's suggestion, this time I sought out the guy who did the original surgeries on me more than 20 years ago. I didn't even know he was still in practice.
My husband liked Dr. D*ckHead way back when but I never really did. He always discussed my issues with my husband, talking around me as if I were an object he would cut on and not a human being. For example, he asked my husband before every surgery (all six of them) if we still wanted to have children, not me. I don't think he ever once asked me. He assumed that I'd rather go through six years of agony and attempt to have children than maybe have the hysterectomy in the first surgery and be done with it. And while I did want children and maybe nothing would have been changed, it would have been nice to have been asked.
At the time so long ago, he was considered one of the better GYN doctors in the area. I mean, we didn't even have a transvaginal ultrasound machine here locally back then, something so common now that a former governor was nicknamed for the device a few years.
Anyway, I went to see Dr. D*ckHead, and he gets the top mark as biggest jerk of a doctor I've seen. I think he even beats out Dr. Dumba*s, the one who did the surgery on me two years ago that has since ruined my life. I pity any woman who is still seeing this jerk for gynecological needs.
I don't know where these doctors get their lack of compassion. Do they teach that in school? Or are jerks drawn to the medical profession for reasons I can't comprehend?
Dr. D*ckHead didn't even try to find out what was wrong with me. He hurt me with his exam, and then told me it was all in my head and the only thing wrong with me was that I was overweight and didn't exercise enough. Never mind that I have a torn ligament in my ankle. Never mind that my weight gain didn't start until I began taking infertility treatment medications that Dr. D*ckHead himself put me on 20 years ago. Never mind that he gave me no direction, offered no suggestions, but dismissed me as if I were a bulging tick on his buttocks. Too bad I wasn't, maybe I'd have given him Lyme Disease.
On top of that, he had the nerve to tell me that physical therapy was a waste of time. Physical therapy is the only healing modality that has kept me on my feet for the past two years. If you need to see a physical therapist more than three times, said Dr. D*ckHead, then either you weren't putting forth any effort or the physical therapist wasn't any good. I call bullshit on that one.
Dr. D*ckHead also said that adhesions and scar tissue don't cause pain. Tell that to every physical therapist in the valley who has to deal with scar tissue. But most surgeons dismiss the theory of scar tissue and adhesions. It is very weird how they get these ideas in their minds and don't let go of them.
And yes, Dr. D*ckHead, I'm overweight. Do you think I don't know that? Do doctors think that obese people are not aware that they're wearing 10 sizes more than they should be? What, you think we don't own mirrors? What is the point in telling me that without offering a solution? Couldn't you give me a printout - here, try this diet, it's been known to be helpful for women who've had a zillion drugs and hysterectomies and whose hormones are screwy. I guess that would be too hard. You might actually do some healing with something like that.
So Dr. D*ckHead, you saw me for the last time. Your name gets filed under "trash," and I hope you never need a physical therapist, because I guarantee you'll be there more than three times.
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