Wednesday, June 29, 2016

On The Record, Part One

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When I first went to the community health clinic I was asked what had made my health better and I noted a time that I had antibiotics and things improved until the antibiotics ran out. Yet, given a long acting injection of penicillin, it had no beneficial effect. And the consequences of receiving the injection had ruined a good relationship I had started to build with the nurse practitioner there.
I had spent the subsequent year thinking this over and theorizing why the injection hadn't worked while the oral antibiotics had. Was it a case of what was wrong with me was something in my intestines themselves and not in the rest of me? That would explain it as oral antibiotics would have direct contact with whatever was in my intestines while, with the intramuscular injection, things hiding in my intestinal space would float protected while the antibiotics flowed through the rest of my body carried by the blood stream. I knew we were supposed to have various types of 'intestinal flora' in our guts, could it be that I had a bad variation that was causing my persistent weight loss and painful bathroom bouts? If that was the case, though, wouldn't I have been infecting other people, especially all of the friends I saw most often? Clearly they weren't having the same problems as I had so, then, what did that mean?
With my new health insurance coverage and newly assigned doctor at the community health clinic a few months later, I decided to make an appointment and discus my long term health issues with her. She greeted me with a smile, but otherwise wasn't interested except for the news as to whether the fat enzymes had been helping. The answer was ''Yes'' and I had in fact gained one pound during the two months since I had last seen her. She concluded that was good enough and otherwise didn't take my other thoughts seriously.
And so I concluded that I needed help with that. Given my new insurance coverage, I called various doctor referral helplines in search of a counselor who wouldn't be put off by my 'situation' and could help me find why medical doctors didn't take my weight loss issues seriously. I finally got a recommendation for someone who was taking a limited number of patients as he was finishing up his education in psychology. I called his number and left a message and he was willing to see me... An appointment was made.
Arriving at a central building that hosted many mental health professionals, I provided my insurance card and found out the co-payment amount and figured I would only be able to afford an appointment once every two weeks. And then I saw him, his room was in the lower level of a hillside building, he was young and trim with the classic Freudian goatee and glasses. He had a slight limp left over from a construction accident before he decided to change fields. He wasn't sure how he could help me and when I told him of my problems establishing a constructive relationship with medical doctors and I wanted help with that, he was more interested in my 'situation' and childhood experiences.
When I tried to explain to him my mixed sex nature, he just couldn't get it, but at the same time I wasn't going to show him either as he wasn't that type of doctor and he wasn't familiar with the intersex label and what it meant, nor did he seem interested in looking it up. When I tried to explain it to him I thought that perhaps I was supposed to be a girl given what happened at puberty. He couldn't understand why as I didn't seem ''prissy'' to him. It turned out the reason he had been recommended to me through the doctor referral helpline was because he had done a paper on transsexuals, but as that wasn't my 'situation' he concluded that I had been referred to him by mistake. Still, he was willing to make a go of it.
While still not interested in my experiences with medical doctors, he did perk up when I told him of my experience with the vocational rehabilitation psychologist and the never ending bubble test he had me take which resulted in such bizarre findings. It turned out he was coming up to speed on giving that test himself and wondered if I'd take it for him. I explained the problems I had filling in all the bubbles given my writing by hand issues and then also my confusion over what the meaning was of the cultural terms many of the test questions relied on. He came up with a proposal to address both of those issues: I could take the test home with me for the two week period until my next visit and fill it out a little at a time, for those questions where I didn't understand what the terms meant, I could just save those for our next appointment when we could talk them over.
I returned to the office two weeks later with all but a quarter of the bubbles filled in.  We discussed the questions I hadn't yet answered due to not understanding the terminology and then he told me what he thought those questions meant. Based on that I finished filling in the bubbles and he took the bubble sheet and told me he'd have it scored by my next visit. When I returned, he said he couldn't have it scored by computer as he wasn't yet certified to give the test and he hadn't finished scoring it by hand and so it all came to nothing... As did a few more follow-up sessions and we mutually decided to end our visits, in my part as it seemed a waste of my time and limited money, and in his case as he would be graduating soon and didn't know if he'd establish his practice in town or somewhere else.
I was back to the doctor referral phone numbers again and got the name of a woman whose office was at the other medical hospital in town. I thought this might be a good sign as, if she was working at the hospital, she must be deemed good enough to be there! Making an appointment with her, the first meeting seemed to go well and we found a good date for the second appointment where we would get into the meat of my issues dealing with medical doctors. When I arrived for that appointment she demanded to know what 'psychiatric hospital' I had been confined to in the past... I told her I hadn't been. She told me she knew I had because she had found out about it from my doctor. What doctor was that? I asked. She wouldn't say, it was a secret. Well I assured her that I had never been to any psychiatric hospital, let alone confined to one. She just glared at me and decided that we should move on to other topics.
She wanted to come up to speed on my family background and childhood. So I began and I mentioned my brothers and sister and she yelled at me, ''YOU DON'T HAVE A SISTER!'' This startled me and I assured her I did and she yelled back that she knew I didn't. I sat there dumbfounded trying to imagine how she felt she had a better knowledge of my family than I did. When I asked her where she had gotten that information from, she again stated that she had sources of information that I didn't know about, but wouldn't say who or what they were. She concluded that to properly start our relationship I should get the records from the psychological student I had been seeing and provide them to her as a starting point. I agreed to.
When I called his answering machine and left a message about the request, he called back and was more than willing to provide me a copy but asked that we have an official close-out session as part of it. An appointment was set and I went to his office to see him, talk about how our sessions hadn't been fruitful and tried to determine why and then he handed me the folder of his records and that was that.
When I arrived at the other counselor's office a couple days later to hand her the paperwork, she angrily called me into her office and then yelled at me for ''two timing her'' with another counselor. She didn't tolerate anything like that and wasn't going to put up with it! When I told her that I wasn't 'two timing' her she glared at me and told me she had witnessed me at the other psychological office just a couple of days ago seeing someone. When I pointed out to her that it had been the student counselor and I had gone there to get the records as she had requested, she fumed and reminded me that she didn't allow 'two timing patients' and then asked for the records. I handed them to her and then all was quiet for the majority of our time as I sat there as she read them. She then declared them to be worthless as they didn't state what psychiatric hospital I had been confined to.
At this I once again pointed out that I had never been confined to any psychiatric hospital and she once again sternly noted that she knew I had as she had heard it from somewhere. I decided to also note how she was also under the misimpression that I didn't have a sister even though I did. ''I KNOW YOU HAVE A SISTER!'' she yelled back at me. When I said that she had repeatedly assured me I didn't at the last meeting, she told me it had been a mistake and to drop the subject. We made an appointment for a follow-up meeting but I was starting to think that perhaps she was the one who most needed the appointment for mental health issues.
For the third appointment, the bus had a mechanical problem and rather than getting me to the bus stop fifteen minutes early, it bought me to her office ten minutes late. I checked in with the waiting room receptionist and went straight to the office to see the counselor but it was locked so I assumed she had something she was finishing up and would call from the waiting area once done. I went back and took a seat. After a while I flipped through some magazines and then after five minutes I returned to her locked door and this time knocked. And knocked. I drifted to the receptionist to ask about it and as far as she knew she should be here. When I asked about my checking in and hadn't she let her know, the receptionist explained that all she does was press an intercom button and say the next patient is here but never expects an answer back from the doctors, she just lets them know. I asked if she could use the intercom again and she pressed the button and called back and this time waited for an answer but none came. Perhaps she had gone to the bathroom or something the receptionist guessed. Either way, as the buses at this end of town ran on the hour and a half, I still had the rest of my appointment time to kill and went back to looking through the old magazines available to use up my time. When it was time to leave for the bus I again asked if the receptionist had ever heard back from the couselor and she hadn't.
The following day I got a ranting phone call from the counselor and she was pissed at me because when she'd gotten back into the office that morning the fact that I had an appointment with her and she hadn't shown was the talk of the office. HOW DARE I EMBARRASS HER LIKE THAT! I told her I didn't know what else to do, once I arrived and she wasn't there. She informed me that she had actually been there but since I wasn't in the waiting room at the start of my appointment time she decided to leave early, so it was my own fault. I told her that, actually, it was the bus that had broken down and I had arrived at the office only ten minutes late. THAT DIDN'T MATTER! I had embarrassed her and gotten her in trouble with her supervisor and the next time the bus is even as little as one minute late I was to not check in for the appointment, I was to not even enter the building, but stay outside until the next bus came! She then wanted to confirm the time for our next appointment. I did.
But after the call, I continued to be disturbed by her attitude and the way she had been treating me during all but the first appointments. I decided to write her a letter detailing my reasons and canceling our following appointment. I never heard back from her and I was once again back to the doctor referral helplines...




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