I went to the doctor Friday, and I was livid when I left. I keep prefacing everything I write here with a disclaimer saying I am not a medical professional, and you should take what I say as simply my experience and what’s working for me, and to check with your doctor before making any changes to your diet or medications. So, I’ve pondered all weekend whether or not to even write this post wherein I’m going to list for you all the ridiculous things my doctor told me and how I’m absolutely not paying any attention to anything she said. Ultimately, I decided to write it, because it’s my truth, and it’s what happened to me, and my point here isn’t to tell you to ignore your doctor, but rather to stick up for yourself and get a second opinion if you know in your gut you need it.
Also, I’ve realized that my previous posts left a couple people in my life concerned for my health, which baffled me, because my purpose for posting has been to share how much healthier I am now and how I made that happen. But I reread the posts and realized I made several references to all my health issues and how much pain I’m in that could be alarming without more information. I wasn’t intentionally being vague. I just felt like the exact issues I’m dealing with weren’t the point. But maybe it is important information to know in terms of what is/was wrong and how much better it is getting.
My biggest physical concern is back, neck, and shoulder pain, which I’ve had chronically for probably 15 years or more. I do have large bazongas, which is probably the major cause of said pain. I even had a reduction surgery in my 20’s because I was having similar pain. What nobody tells you is that they grow back. If you have this type of surgery in your younger years, they often continue growing, essentially until menopause. To some extent, mine got larger or smaller when I’d gain or lose weight, but when I was 29 I lost a lot of weight, and I actually weighed less than I did at the time of my surgery, and my chest was still bigger. So, there’s more to it than that. Several celebrities have publicly discussed their experiences and needing a second surgery in their 40s. Yes, I’ve considered a second surgery, but I’d like to avoid that if possible.
I’ve tried yoga, massage, chiropractic, physical therapy, all kinds of things, and it might help a little, or help temporarily, but the pain is still there. Also, as COVID hit and I stopped working out regularly and started sitting on my couch more, I’ve started having pain in my hips, my lower back, randomly in my big toe, you name it.
I’ve also developed this little bump on my right shoulder blade that doesn’t really bother me, but it wasn’t there before, and now it is. Then one morning about six weeks ago, my right arm suddenly became numb, yet painful and weak, kind of like when you hit your funny bone? But it’s my whole arm, and it’s all the time. So, thinking these two things might be related, I talked to my doctor who gave me a referral to an orthopedist.
That appointment was a few weeks ago. His assessment was that the lump is just a lipoma, a fatty mass that doesn’t cause any problems. He said the lump is not the cause of the arm pain/tingling/weakness, because the nerves that run down the arm go along the front of the chest, not the back. He believes I have carpal tunnel syndrome, and he’s sending me for a test that will determine if that’s it. If so, he says it’s a short, 10 minute surgery, and I’ll feel instantly better and be able to go back to work in a day or two.
That’s the gist of what I’m dealing with, along with the depression, anxiety, and insomnia. I’ve been making changes to my diet to reduce inflammation, and I’m exercising regularly again to try to build strength and reduce stress, as well as improve my mood. I wanted to see my regular doctor to discuss weaning myself off these antidepressants and sleeping pills. Plus, I figured while I was there I’d have her look at the lump, just to see if another doctor agreed it was nothing to be concerned about.
Except, my doctor isn’t available right now. I had an appointment scheduled for December, and the office called me then to tell me she was out until February and we needed to reschedule. Then in early February they called again saying she’s out until June. I wanted to ask if she’s okay, if she’s being held against her will, if I should send help. But, I refrained. I told them I had something I really wanted to discuss, and I asked if I could see someone else sooner. So, they made an appointment with another provider in their office.
I prepared for this visit by packing up all my meds to reference, a copy of my dog-eared book, Integrative Medicine for Depression, and my list of all the supplements I’m on and the changes I’ve made to my diet and exercise program. I was all prepared to tell this doctor how great I’m doing and how much healthier I am, and how I don’t need these drugs anymore. I wanted to tell her how going vegan has fixed my cholesterol problem, and how I’m feeling so much better and want to get off all these meds.
I was called back by the nurse, who weighed me (two more pounds gone! Yay!) and showed me to the exam room. In this room were not one, but two posters showing the “My Plate” nutrition guidelines from the USDA explaining how important lean meat and dairy are for a healthy body. I resisted the urge to write “LIES” across the posters with a big Sharpie, and I decided I’d probably keep the vegan thing to myself.
The doctor came in, and she asked why I was there, and I told her I had this little lump I wanted a second opinion on, and I also wanted to discuss weaning off my antidepressants and sleep meds. She looked at me like I’d sprouted horns and asked, “WHY?!” This was not going as I’d anticipated.
I tried to explain to her that I am not so sure these medications are helping me, and I’m making some changes to my diet and exercise routine that are really improving my mood, and I feel like I don’t actually sleep, but rather I’m kind of sedated from these meds, and I’d really like to be able to get actual, restful and restorative sleep.
Somewhere in there she interrupted me and sharply asked, “Who put you on this medication regimen?!” I told her I honestly don’t know. I truly don’t. I’ve seen so many doctors over the years, and I’ve changed meds so many times, and I’ve been completely off all the meds a couple times. She interrupted me again and asked, “If you had to guess?” I stated, again, that I truly don’t know. She more forcefully said, “Guess.” So I said, “Ummm….maybe Dr. L?” who I’d seen when I first moved to Columbia over five years ago. Because I had to say something to get her to move on from this line of questioning, which was irrelevant to my purpose for being there.
That seemed to appease her for some reason. I relaxed a bit, thinking we were on the right track now. Then she started explaining to me how, “We don’t wean people off medication until after daylight saving time.”
Say what now?
Is this a thing?! I mean, I realize that seasonal affective disorder is a real thing, but it’s never been my thing. I get super cranky if I’m the least bit hot. Like 75 is too hot. I’m not depressed by cold, dark, snowy weather. I like cold and dark and snow. Also, I hate the start of daylight saving time with the passion of a thousand burning suns. If anything, you should wean me off my antidepressants when daylight saving time ends. Because that day in the fall is when I come to life.
Anyhoodle, as this nonsensical conversation went on, she asked me to get up on the table so she could look at this lump. The good news here is that she did agree that it’s a lipoma and not the cause of the arm tingling. Then she nonchalantly threw out that, “We can just make you an appointment with general surgery and have that removed.” Umm…but it’s not causing any problem. Plus the orthopedist told me that insurance never covers the removal of lipomas.
Moving on. She proceeded to explain to me that this lump could not be causing my arm issue because the nerves that control the arm run from, “Here to here,” while moving her finger up and down my spine.
I told her I didn’t want it removed, as it doesn’t bother me. She continued her exam, looking in my ears, listening to my heart and my belly, which had nothing to do with any of the issues I was there to discuss.
Once I got off the table, we got back to the issue at hand, my medications and how/whether I could wean off them. She declared that she was all in favor of me getting off the Valium I take, because, “In cases of death from opioid abuse, benzodiazepines are a contributing factor.”
Ummm…I’m not on opioids. I’ve only ever taken opioids after surgery, and I stop them pretty quickly because I don’t like how they make me feel. I don’t think this information is relevant in any way to my situation. But whatever, she agreed I could wean off something. Let’s count this a win and move on.
I tried to explain to her how I was prescribed the Valium twice a day, but I’ve only been taking a half pill in the morning and 3/4 at night. She was completely baffled by this statement. “What do you mean you take 3/4?” Like I cut it in half, then I cut one of the halves in half, so I take 3/4 a pill. She was completely confused by this. Then she asked, “Why on earth are you taking the Valium in the morning?!”
Dude. I don’t know. I don’t think I need it. That’s why I’m here.
Then I told her that I’ve already cut one of my antidepressants in half on my own (which I’m not saying you should do, because no doctor told me I could do this!) and I’ve been feeling fine on that dosage, but that it was clearly scored and easy to cut, but this other one I’m on isn’t something I can cut, because it’s tiny, and it’s got this coating, and I can’t cut it.
She continued to stare at me in confusion. I pulled out my bag of goodies and took out the bottle, shook out one tiny pill, and showed it to her. She took it in her hand, then declared, “You could cut it.” Then I told her that it says on the bottle, “Do not crush or chew.” And she said, “Then you can’t cut it.”
I didn’t even consider until later that we’re in the middle of a pandemic, yet she just manhandled my pill then unceremoniously dropped it back in the bottle. Ew.
Then she went back to her computer screen, did a bunch of typing, and told me, “That’s 150 milligrams, and they do make a pill in 75 milligrams, but if we do that, you have to take it twice a day.” Ummm…but…I could only take it once a day? Like I’m taking the 150 milligrams once a day, but it would be less? No response to this.
At this point I was pretty frustrated and defeated, and she had spent more time with this crazy blonde woman than she was allotted, so she told me to come back in six months and we could reevaluate. Or I could come back in four months. Because that would be after daylight saving time. (????) And I should work on getting off the Valium completely in the meantime. I got no instructions on how to do this, by the way. So my plan is to continue my apparently ridiculous method of using fractions.
Oh, and on her way out, she casually said, “Your ten-year risk of a major cardiovascular event is low, so we won’t put you on a statin, for now.” What?! You’re darn right you’re not putting me on a statin! My cholesterol is normal. Plus, this book I’m reading says that several studies have correlated cholesterol being too low with an increased risk of depression… But she wasn’t listening.
I went to the scheduling desk and asked them to please make me another appointment with my actual doctor at the earliest opportunity, which is mid-June.
So, the wins here are, 1. I’m down a total of five pounds since starting this journey. 2. The lump is a lipoma and nothing to worry about. 3. I’m weaning off my Valium.
The negatives are, this woman wasn’t listening to me at all, and she was telling me things that are, at worst, flat out wrong, and at best, not applicable in any way to me and my situation. Plus the whole experience was not very helpful and was quite demoralizing. Also, I might reduce some of my meds anyway before June. But you shouldn’t do that! I am going to start with the Valium, as instructed (or rather not instructed), and go from there.
And I’m going to mark darn sure that I never visit that doctor again.