By Gladys Lemesurier
(*Content Warning: Needle, Image of IV)
Every woman I know seems to have a never-ending list of healthcare horror stories. My own doctor visits have been no different. In my sophomore year of high school, I went to the doctor because I suspected I had shin splints, a common affliction for runners. My doctor nodded at my concern, told me he thought I might have shin splints, and sent me home with a prescription for Ibuprofen. Another visit prompted by persistent wrist pain brought me to the doctor again. Three hours in the waiting room and one x-ray later brought him to the conclusion that it was, in fact, “all in my head.” This phrase will come as no surprise to any women who have had to deal with the healthcare system. It’s just one common phrase among an endless supply of other rage-inducing comments. There’s nothing we can do. There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong. Are you sure it’s that bad? Have you tried taking over the counter medication? As if we haven’t exhausted every option available to us before making an appointment.
But we do make the appointment. We listen to the doctor’s advice: change your diet, exercise more, meditate. We listen because these are the people who are supposed to take care of us when we feel like we need help. When that doesn’t work, we make another appointment with another doctor. Then another and another, often with the same disheartening results. I know how hopeless it can feel, wanting to make a new appointment but being afraid it will only yield the same response as always. Many women stop trying, having been gaslit by healthcare professionals so many times that they become convinced they are just overreacting.
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