Sometimes you feel you have no control over anything. I went to see a neurologist today, was 100% honest about my history and the stresses I've been under, and yet left with a diagnosis of "You are probably causing it" and "Because of your history it's psychosomatic." Oh, good to know that it's all in my head when I can't hold a pen without tremors and drawing a straight line seems to be a thing of the past. His advice is to follow up with my psychiatrist and get a psychotherapist.
I understand the bias of doctors toward patients with a co-morbid mental illness; it's not a comfortable topic for those of us who deal with it every day either but we are left with no choice, and have to deal with the caution we see and hear when we are honest about our health, mental and otherwise. Because of greater stated acceptance of mental disorders from the medical community I find there are getting to be two types of doctors. The first does understand what a burden we deal with and can be very helpful and sympathetic concerning our unique issues compared to the general population. To them it truly is a disease like any physiological condition with certain sets of symptoms and medications that must be managed as best as possible.
The other type try to follow the new acceptance pattern, but basically pay lip service to "the terrible problem I have" and how I need to "address this problem before anything else can be done." I am not a walking problem that has to be pushed out the door as soon as possible, I'm a walking human being that has physical issues at this point regardless of my mental history! Please do not belittle me. I get enough of that in my life already when people find out that I have depression, and as a medical professional I expect better, particularly working in neurology where many patients with Parkinson's also suffer from depression as a result of their symptoms (and there may be a causal link between the two; there's no certain answer on that yet, but research is being done).
Lately it's been harder than normal to care for myself as I should with the intense stress of the deaths and the break-ins, so I sat on the subway shaking and trying not to cry from 168th St. to 42nd as I'm heading to work after the appointment, realizing I'm pretty much on my own. It's not the end. I will try to figure this out with or without medical help, but this was so far from what I expected that I'm horribly disappointed in the system. It's time to sleep well, try to eat well, and take care of myself despite everything, and try to let go of the resentment.
I understand the bias of doctors toward patients with a co-morbid mental illness; it's not a comfortable topic for those of us who deal with it every day either but we are left with no choice, and have to deal with the caution we see and hear when we are honest about our health, mental and otherwise. Because of greater stated acceptance of mental disorders from the medical community I find there are getting to be two types of doctors. The first does understand what a burden we deal with and can be very helpful and sympathetic concerning our unique issues compared to the general population. To them it truly is a disease like any physiological condition with certain sets of symptoms and medications that must be managed as best as possible.
The other type try to follow the new acceptance pattern, but basically pay lip service to "the terrible problem I have" and how I need to "address this problem before anything else can be done." I am not a walking problem that has to be pushed out the door as soon as possible, I'm a walking human being that has physical issues at this point regardless of my mental history! Please do not belittle me. I get enough of that in my life already when people find out that I have depression, and as a medical professional I expect better, particularly working in neurology where many patients with Parkinson's also suffer from depression as a result of their symptoms (and there may be a causal link between the two; there's no certain answer on that yet, but research is being done).
Lately it's been harder than normal to care for myself as I should with the intense stress of the deaths and the break-ins, so I sat on the subway shaking and trying not to cry from 168th St. to 42nd as I'm heading to work after the appointment, realizing I'm pretty much on my own. It's not the end. I will try to figure this out with or without medical help, but this was so far from what I expected that I'm horribly disappointed in the system. It's time to sleep well, try to eat well, and take care of myself despite everything, and try to let go of the resentment.
posted by AnonymousX at 8:02 PM
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