Just thinking of this title makes me cross, I am remembering an appointment I had nearly 20 years ago, with a consultant at the hospital. This will be more of a rant than a waffle!
I walked to the hospital 2-3 miles, I had no money for a bus or taxi back then and walked everywhere within a few miles, so I was exhausted and sweaty upon arrival. Then there was a huge delay and I had to sit and wait uncomfortably for over an hour, during which I went into a sleepy state. By the time I got in to see this consultant, I was a mess, confused, dazed, pained, I wanted to cry and sleep.
So, this wonderful medical man went on to treat me as a depressed, overweight person, his attitude was judgemental, as if I was wasting his time. I was carrying a little extra weight due to the difficulty of exercising with a walking toddler with no child free time as a single parent, I was fighting it. It seemed he was some kind of orthopaedic specialist, but more used to operating and fixing damaged bones and not knowledgeable in CFS or related conditions after all, as I had been expecting. Ho, hum.
He agreed to refer me to a nurse practitioner who could help me manage my condition, (that never happened) in the meantime he bombarded me with his advice, ‘send in the tanks’ he rallied, see your pain as a ring of fire and send those tanks on and through it to the other side! With these words I knew I was in the wrong place, all new treatment advice back then as now, was to never push through, but to pace and build up very gradually. thoughts of Johnny Cash and his song came to mind, images of warfare and victory, even the Doors, ‘Break on through’ song sang in my head, it was a lively speech.
I sat and cried, adding fuel to his misconception, all hope for help lost, I sobbed, he rallied some more, giving me a speech about winning the war, I wanted to kill him but was too exhausted. I scuttled away from his office feeling crushed and hopeless.
Now years later, I try to think that he meant well just was ill informed, this is being generously kind on my part.
I took myself back to my G.P, a broken, hopeless desperate mess and signed up for SSRI’s to raise my mood, (they made me fat) knowing they don’t improve my energy levels. He asked me about my appointment, and I told him honestly, he shared ‘I was afraid of that.’ Yes, he knew this consultant by reputation and that his specialism was not CFS or related just the closest they had to it. It was all a waste of time.
Since then, I would like to say that there is now a CFS clinic in our area, except no there is not, they exist in other parts of the country though so who knows, one day, someday, maybe.
Living With ME 