Bitch, Die in Hell

Hence why, this afternoon, I was thrown out of my doctor's office for telling her that she lacks any sense of ethics or morality. I had been insulted, berated, and told that I am whining about nothing for half an hour before my doctor realized that she had made a serious medical mistake, at which point she then tried to blame me for it. For twenty minutes, I listened to her prattle on and on about how someone in my situation should never take antibiotics, after which I calmly asked her why she had prescribed me antibiotics two months ago if that was the case. She insisted she would never have done such a thing, and asked me the exact name of the medication she had given me. Not able to remember, I came up with Flogyl (it turns out it was Flagyl, but any doctor with any intelligence would have been able to discern what I meant) and she told me that I had no idea what I was talking about, am obviously totally unaware of my health, and have been completely disorganized ever since she met me (I've seen her only once before, and I had come with a medical history file about an inch thick, put in reverse-chronological order and placed in protective plastic sleeves. Anal? Maybe. Disorganized? I think not). She continued to say that it is impossible to deal with patients like me because all we do is whine and we don't keep up our end of the doctor-patient relationship.

"See, you can't even remember the name of the medicine I prescribed to you! You obviously have no idea what you are talking about!" she yelled, and when I informed her that she had prescribed me one week's worth of pills that were to be taken with meals, she said, "Oh la la! You obviously didn't read the notice! Those weren't pills, they weren't to be eaten! They were to be inserted! You were drinking gelcaps that were meant to be inserted! Lord knows what you have done to your system!"

I tried to tell her that she hadn't given me gelcaps, that they had been large, white discs to be taken orally. She insisted that she would never have done such a thing, and I insisted that she had. We went back and forth like an Olympic ping-pong game, each hit getting harder than the previous. I refused to let up. I was fucking positive of what she had given me. (I have now double checked. My prescription says, "Flagyl. 500mg. Oral. Take one tablet in the morning and another at night, always with a meal, for seven days." That doesn't sound like insertable gelcaps to me.)

"Don't you have a copy of prescription you sent me? Didn't you make note of the prescription somewhere, anywhere in my file?" I asked, trying to find some way of proving that I knew I was right about my prescripition.

"No!" she fired back at me, "Why would I do that?"

"Because you're my doctor!" I shot back. "You're supposed to have a more complete medical file on me than I am!"

Then she continued to tell me about how disorganized I had been about giving her my medical history. How I was expecting her to perform miracles and how she can't do anything without the proper information. How I have obviously been going from doctor to doctor because I can't even keep track of my own health. "For example, when did you have _____ bacteria?" she asked, as a test.

"Um...I don't know...six months ago, maybe," I estimated.

"See, you have no idea!" she cried, incredulously, "And what did you take for it?"

"I don't know the name. Sorry, I don't retain medical terms very well, but I gave you my entire file last time I was here and you should have photocopies of all of the prescriptions my previous doctor had given me."

"What are you talking about? I only have this one sheet of paper and it is full of question marks."

"Well, that's not my fault," I said, "I clearly remember you making photocopies. I came with an inch-thick folder of all of my medical history, clearly organized so that I could show you everything you needed. You made at least four photocopies. If you don't have them in your folder, I don't know what to say. That's not my fault"

She, of course, insisted that I had never brought in my complete medical history (lie), that she had never made the photocopies (lie), that I had no idea what I was talking about (not true), and that her prescription had not been for oral pills but rather for insertable gels (just so not true!).

So this continued for awhile. I had decided to focus on just a few of her errors. Nevermind the fact that she had sent me my prescription without having verified my boyfriend's test results. Nevermind that she obciously hadn't even LOOKED OVER his results because she had somehow "misplaced" his information (which she blamed on the secretaries, of course). Forget that she had told me that our "deviant sexual practices" were obviously at the root of the problem, or that whatever problem I had, it was most likely just "in my head."

The fact of the matter is this: she prescribed the wrong medicine to me, lost all of my paperwork (or at least pretended to so as not to have to recognize the fact that she had prescribed the incorrect treatment) and then tried to shove it off on me: my bad organization, my lack of knowledge of exact medical terms and dates, my "deviant sexual behavior," my naive belief that she could perform miracles.

I finally stood up and said, "You have no ethics. You have made a horrible mistake, and there is no sense in our continuing to discuss this matter. At the price you ask for a visit, I am shocked at how unprofessional you are, at your utter lack of organization, and most of all, of your inability to at least admit to having made a mistake. If you did something wrong, fine. But do NOT try and say that any of this is MY fault. I brought you my entire medical history. You examined me and said that you would wait for the results of both me and my boyfriend, after which you said you would send me a prescription. You did so, but without ever looking at my boyfriend's results, and it took you SIX WEEKS to write back to me. And now we both find out that you in fact prescribed me the wrong medicine, and you refuse to admit your error. I am not disorganized. This is not in my head. And you should be ashamed to treat your patients in such a manner. You have spent the last half hour insulting me," I said, tearfully. (I have a problem - when I actually do have to confront someone, I cry. I hate it, I wish I could get rid of it. But that's the way I am.) "I see no reason to stay here."

"You have no reason to put yourself in such a state. I have no reason to waste my time with a patient like you. I suggest you find yourself another doctor and leave my office at once. I have other things to do that to spend my time with someone as irresponsable as you. I am simply wasting my time. Please leave." she said, forcefully and coldly.

As we left, my boyfriend, who had come with me for the visit and had remained entirely silent throughout this entire scene, piped in and said, "You have no integrity. You should be ashamed," as we stepped out her door.

She slammed the door behind us.

If I was in the US, I would sue that bitch like nobody's business. I cannot believe how she continuously insulted me for over half an hour. I took it and took it, but finally could not handle her comments anymore. I really blew my top. Coming out on the street, I was shaking and crying. I have never been so mad at someone whom I did not know personally. She had actually succeeded in making me feel really guilty there for a moment, until I realized that she had just been trying to cover her own ass. And that's just wrong. As a doctor, you should admit your wrongdoings and try to amend the situation. You should certainly never, ever say that it is the patient's fault for not knowing the exact names of the medication she had prescribed, especially when you, as a doctor, never took the time to WRITE THEM DOWN in your patient's file.

I want to send her a photocopy of the original prescription that she had given me, with a letter attached saying, "At least recognize that you fucked up big time. Bitch, die in hell."

But I guess that would be a bad thing to do, huh? Is it really all that bad? Can't I do it?