A quick note on medical anxiety
Sep. 6th, 2014 04:20 pmContent note: weight-shaming, medical consent, disordered eating.
I tend to be very nervous when I get my blood pressure taken, because medical appointments are stressful even when they're with people I know: I'm a complex patient, I ask for things doctors aren't always comfortable with, and people can't always (or even often) tell me what's wrong with me. Being an expert patient can get very lonely. Better even than that, usually the person who's checking my blood pressure is someone new, doing intake, with whom I have no trust and no rapport and no pattern for how the appointment is likely to go.
I am always congratulated on my blood pressure being slap bang normal to low normal, even after I've told them I'm anxious. The only time I've ever had a plausible reading is after an outpatient medical procedure: I was sleep-deprived, I'd been nil-by-mouth for somewhere in the vicinity of six hours, and I'd been given IV sedatives without anyone checking in with me about the idea first. I was sufficiently far into "low blood pressure" that the nurses insisted on keeping me in for observation. It was eminently avoidable, if they had only thought to seek appropriate consent.
I have a history of disordered eating. I am still astonished every time someone touches my stomach and I don't flinch. I don't actually know how to process that sometimes I enjoy people touching my stomach: my brain just... shuts down around the idea, and I don't want to push it.
I benefit from thin privilege. I pretty much always weigh the same amount, regardless of how much activity I'm doing - exercise shifts my body composition but doesn't tend to make any difference to numbers. I cheerfully wear twinky tight-fitting clothing.
A few months after I started antidepressants, I had an appointment with a GP. "Oh," she said, looking at me, happy and congratulatory, "you've lost weight!" "... I'm pretty sure I haven't," I said, and moved rapidly onwards.
I had not lost weight since the last time she saw me. I had gained it because the antidepressants were working and I had started eating again. I was happier. I was comfortable. I was proud.
And I have a history of disordered eating, and being praised for having lost weight when (1) the exact opposite had happened, (2) this was a good thing, and (3) weight loss would have been cause for serious concern was... unhelpful.
I am periodically reminded of this incident by my awesome fat-activist friends talking about their activism and their own experiences, and I don't have the words to explain how resentful I am that that GP diminished my capacity to listen and empathise and provide support.
I tend to be very nervous when I get my blood pressure taken, because medical appointments are stressful even when they're with people I know: I'm a complex patient, I ask for things doctors aren't always comfortable with, and people can't always (or even often) tell me what's wrong with me. Being an expert patient can get very lonely. Better even than that, usually the person who's checking my blood pressure is someone new, doing intake, with whom I have no trust and no rapport and no pattern for how the appointment is likely to go.
I am always congratulated on my blood pressure being slap bang normal to low normal, even after I've told them I'm anxious. The only time I've ever had a plausible reading is after an outpatient medical procedure: I was sleep-deprived, I'd been nil-by-mouth for somewhere in the vicinity of six hours, and I'd been given IV sedatives without anyone checking in with me about the idea first. I was sufficiently far into "low blood pressure" that the nurses insisted on keeping me in for observation. It was eminently avoidable, if they had only thought to seek appropriate consent.
I have a history of disordered eating. I am still astonished every time someone touches my stomach and I don't flinch. I don't actually know how to process that sometimes I enjoy people touching my stomach: my brain just... shuts down around the idea, and I don't want to push it.
I benefit from thin privilege. I pretty much always weigh the same amount, regardless of how much activity I'm doing - exercise shifts my body composition but doesn't tend to make any difference to numbers. I cheerfully wear twinky tight-fitting clothing.
A few months after I started antidepressants, I had an appointment with a GP. "Oh," she said, looking at me, happy and congratulatory, "you've lost weight!" "... I'm pretty sure I haven't," I said, and moved rapidly onwards.
I had not lost weight since the last time she saw me. I had gained it because the antidepressants were working and I had started eating again. I was happier. I was comfortable. I was proud.
And I have a history of disordered eating, and being praised for having lost weight when (1) the exact opposite had happened, (2) this was a good thing, and (3) weight loss would have been cause for serious concern was... unhelpful.
I am periodically reminded of this incident by my awesome fat-activist friends talking about their activism and their own experiences, and I don't have the words to explain how resentful I am that that GP diminished my capacity to listen and empathise and provide support.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-06 03:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-06 04:36 pm (UTC)Also, I read this awesome article about the most amazing self-educated patient recently. I'll see if I can find the link.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-06 04:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-07 05:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-08 02:17 am (UTC)Ah, you are welcome!
(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-06 03:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-06 06:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-06 07:22 pm (UTC)This!
I'm always somewhat surprised when my blood-pressure comes in as normal, both from anxiety over needing to manipulate the GP into doing what I want and from the up and down of heading into the GP's office from reception tending to make my heart race (I don't have a POTS diagnosis but won't be surprised if I eventually get one).
My somewhat lazy GP tends to be relatively uninterested in my weight, I suspect she only checks it when her computer prompts her, but GPs as a whole are fixated on the weight-loss=good thing, and I wonder if sometimes they read 'patient looks better' as 'patient must have lost weight' (this also assumes they remember who you are, which is by no means guaranteed, I've had a consultant forget he'd seen me before, even though it was barely a fortnight between appointments).
Worst inappropriate comment I've had was a junior A&E doctor responding to 'I have HMS' with 'Oh, have you got any party tricks you can show me'. It's always nice to find a doctor who actually knows what HMS is, but when I'm in A&E over a heart scare* probably isn't the appropriate time....
* Evil Uber-Boss at Evil Aerospace Inc had managed to boost my resting pulse rate to How High!?! levels.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-07 02:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-07 03:09 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-07 03:13 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-07 08:58 pm (UTC)But then I've tumbled into spectacularly bad thoughts myself a time or two.
Content note: suicidality
Date: 2014-09-07 08:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-06 08:10 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-07 08:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-06 08:24 pm (UTC)I'm going to give you an example below of my own experience. If you feel this will be uncomfortable, let me know and I'll edit it out of the comment. I'm not going to mention any numbers or figures or anything like that.
About a year ago, I had two upper respiratory infections back to back. My immune system was in fact so compromised that I had one infection that lasted 3 months, until I caved and went to the campus health clinic to get checked out and possibly some medication.
The nurse weighed me. Now, I have always been more robust for my height than normal people, because I have been working on a farm since I was a small child and therefore have a high amount of muscle mass. So the number she put down was both a.) incorrect, because I was wearing 10 lbs of clothes, and b.) wayyyyy too low for me.
I brought my concerns up to the doctor that I had lost all this weight from infection,. And he's like WELP IT HAPPENS. Next time I came in (for another infection), I was asked if I had regained the weight? My response was negative. The doctor didn't push the issue, because it was normal for my height, so therefore good.
The real problem is that I've actually experienced a decent amount of muscle wasting, contributing to the weight loss. I'm not actually sure how to bring this up to a medical professional, because I'm afraid my concerns will be dismissed again. And I've always sort of viewed the doctors office as something like a run in with the police-- once you're labelled negatively by the authorities, the suspicion about you remains. So if I'm considered an alarmist by one doctor, I'm afraid that will stick with me.
So, uh. I'm stuck in this probably bad situation because I'm too chickenshit to stand up for myself at the doctors.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-07 03:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-06 09:51 pm (UTC)And I don't want to even think about how many people have died because doctors focused too much or not enough on their weight.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-07 02:22 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-07 06:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-07 02:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-07 02:34 am (UTC)