My Love-Hate Relationship with Doctors

Summary

The author, a medical student, describes a frustrating experience with a new doctor who dismissed her concerns and medical history, reflecting on the broader issue of patient mistreatment and health disparities in the medical system.

Abstract

The author, who is pursuing a career in medicine, shares her ambivalent feelings towards doctors due to personal experiences. She recounts a recent unsatisfactory appointment where a new doctor disregarded her medical history and concerns, particularly about her PCOS treatment. This incident, coupled with the stress of moving and professional school, led to emotional distress. The author points out that such experiences are not uncommon, especially among women and BIPOC individuals, highlighting systemic issues in medical education and practice that contribute to patient mistrust and health inequities. Despite her negative experiences, the author remains committed to becoming a healthcare professional who genuinely listens to and advocates for patients.

Opinions

The author has had both positive and negative experiences with doctors, which have shaped her mixed feelings about the profession.
She criticizes the medical system for not adequately addressing the concerns of patients, particularly women with reproductive health issues and BIPOC individuals.
The author believes that medical schools are not doing enough to teach future doctors about patient communication and empathy.
She expresses frustration with the healthcare system's inefficiency and insensitivity, citing unnecessary tests and a lack of patient-centered care.
The author is determined to be a healthcare provider who listens to patients and works to overcome health disparities, indicating a strong desire to reform the current healthcare practices from within the system.

As someone who is in school to become a doctor, I think my feelings are controversial.

I’ve had mixed feelings toward doctors for a long, long time. There are some that have been fantastic, such as my pediatrician when I was a kid, or my gynecologist that successfully mitigated my PCOS. Others, not so much. A great example is the doctor I visited yesterday. I recently moved across the country, and that meant I needed doctors in my area to manage my health.

I sat down in the office, a little nervous because I had no idea how the appointment was going to go. I was lucky because my insurance was accepted by the clinic, and doctor was in-network, and I really needed to talk to a doctor about my changes in medication. After I was ushered into a room, the doctor took a few minutes to show up. That was normal, and I didn’t think anything of it. What did raise an eyebrow was how the doctor cut me off when I was talking about my recent treatment, and how she didn’t ask about my medical history.

“My previous doctor, who has been seeing me for years, recommended this treatment — ”

“Well you would need blood tests, a pap smear, an ultrasound, and then maybe we’ll talk about some sort of treatment,” she said with a tone of finality.

“Well, I’ve had most of those done recently, and it’s not really recommended for me to redo the tests this often — ”

“Yes, but you got taken off your hormonal medication to take care of your PCOS. We need to redo everything. Here’s the form for the medical release and you can pick up slips for the lab at the front desk.”

The appointment must have lasted close to five minutes. The doctor didn’t address any of concerns for my symptoms, didn’t care to talk about treatment plans, and didn’t even let me talk about how my PCOS just doesn’t affect me physically, but also mentally. As I walked out to my car, I sat there with the radio playing in the background, a little too aware that I skipped online class to waste my time with a doctor that wanted to waste insurance money.

I then promptly burst into tears.

I know, I know. It sounds ridiculously dramatic because it is ridiculously dramatic, but I had been worried about my treatment plan for weeks and combined with the stress of moving and professional school, I had become a ball of stress.

My experience isn’t that rare, especially for women that have concerns with anything reproductive related, and even more so for those who are BIPOC. Dr. Tia Powell, a professor at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine, explains that this is “a huge issue in medicine” and how “schools are starting to address the problem.” The problem is that this is too little, too late. There are millions of people in medical need whose problems have not been listened to, and have suffered as a result.

I am one of them. I am one of them despite having a good health insurance, easy availability to access most medical professionals, and the ability to pay for more extensive procedures if necessary. If I’m not listened to, how can we expect the not wealthy, not white, and not heterosexual to receive proper care?

The truth is, we can’t. We can’t expect doctors to listen to patients in need, Dr. Leana Wen sums up in her book When Doctors Don’t Listen: How to Avoid Misdiagnoses and Unnecessary Tests. It’s horrifying as she reflects on how doctors don’t listen because that wasn’t taught as much in residency programs in comparison of how to diagnose, which often leads into doctors steamrolling patients and their experiences. It makes me wonder just how much we can rely on the established health system.

And yet, I chose to go to dental school. As someone who has worked with underserved populations before, the health disparities that exist in this country divide us. There are too many barriers to the right to be healthy in the US, and that is absolutely unacceptable. I wanted to become a healthcare professional who listens to patients, who establishes a working relationship with patients, and betters the health of patients. I know this comes at a great contradiction with my experiences, but somehow, I feel like it would make all the difference when I start interacting with patients.