Over the course of my life I have had some amazing doctors. The doctor who diagnosed my Fibro is not only a genius, ahead of her time, but is dedicated to educating herself continually. One day when I came in to her office in a terrible flare, she asked me, “what happened yesterday?” (My daughter had been beaten up at school!) I salute the doctors, like her, who not only accept but embrace the mind-body connection, and make it part of their medical practice. I respect doctors who respect things they don’t understand, and make it their business to try.
But I’ve also had some lousy doctors. Like the one who told me, when I was feeling down about my postpartum weight, “If you were in a concentration camp, you wouldn’t be fat!” Yeah, he was not my doctor for long. Or the one who told me to only eat vegetables (“buh-bye!”) or the one who told me he didn’t think my baby need to nurse that often (uhh, how would you know, exactly?) or the one who offered to throw in a half-price boob job during my hernia surgery (no thanks!).
Professionally, I encounter many doctors who treat their Fibro patients with respect, compassion and skill, trying every approach they know and every new treatment as it becomes available. They know they are grossly unprepared to provide the type of comprehensive treatment that Fibro requires, and they wholeheartedly support my efforts to shift this responsibility onto the therapeutic community.
Thankfully, these currently outnumber those who are still saying they “don’t believe in Fibro” and “there’s nothing wrong with you.” People, these are dinosaurs. If your doctor says things like that, please walk away. There are others out there who know how to keep up with the times.