Trying not to be difficult

As I sit in an exam room, I think how to craft my story. I know I am a difficult medical case. I know if I actually tell the doctor all my diagnoses and symptoms, I will be sent to the psych department...because it is not possible to have so many things wrong with a person. (Although, on a side note, psych doctors have been some of the nicest people I have ever met. They often seem perplexed why I have been referred to their department. I am always told I am sane, and my symptoms are real. One psychiatrist even told me I was the sanest person he has ever met. I am still trying to figure out if this is a compliment or not.)

I rehearse in my brain what to say to the physician. What details do I include? What details do I exclude? Often, it seems, despite my best efforts of trying not to be difficult, the clinician is blinded by the words “Mitochondrial Disease” on my chart. Fear and frustration often plague the medical professional. The reaction of many is a raised tone of voice, and the demand that I never come back to their office again! I am frequently told, “You are a complicated case. Go somewhere else for medical care.” Rejected, I often sit in the car wondering where I went wrong. I often just have a simple problem requiring minor medical intervention...but I often am denied any medical treatment because my chart says I have Mitochondrial Disease.

I keep on keeping on, fighting to get medical treatment. As frustrated as some situations leave me, I try always to be polite. The Bible says to respect those in authority. So, with much grace and holding of my tongue, I try to refrain from arguing with the doctor. I often attempt to subtly steer the physician in the right direction if I know we are going down the wrong rabbit hole...but my suggestions are often ignored or dismissed. I try to be obedient to the clinician’s demands, even if I know things will probably end badly. I endure so possibly I might be able to receive the correct medical treatment. Often, when the wrong path is taken, I am the one who receives the blame for the treatment not working or for the test result coming back wrong. I try my best to keep my head up and keep the tears from streaming down my face. On to the next appointment.