“Your hands can heal, your hands can bruise…”

My thoughts thus far have been PCOS-centric. While blogging about this has been wonderfully therapeutic, I have a PSA for all of you, PCOS-sufferers or not: BEWARE OF DR. EVIL.

Not the literal Dr. Evil, of course. I’m referring to the one who refuses to hear you when you talk. The one that dismisses you. The one that just *knows* what’s going on with your body more than you do, because they went to MEDICAL SCHOOL, dummy!

First off, for anyone dealing with ANY medical issue, please do yourself a favor and listen to your own body. If you have been feeling something, or intuitively feel that something isn’t right, don’t doubt yourself if you’re unsure of an MD’s diagnosis.

The last year of my life would’ve been completely different had I done so. Over the course of the last eight months, I have exposed my body to ridiculous amounts of hormones. I’ve had blood taken on a bi-weekly basis. I took medication that made me essentially pee out of my butt constantly, because my doctor said it would make my body respond to insulin more effectively.

In my defense, I’d tried to talk to my doctor multiple times about the side effects of these drugs.

The following is actual dialogue with my physician:

Me: “I can’t stop crapping; I read that there is an extended release form of this drug that might help. Should we try that?”

Dr. Crazi, MD: “Sure, I guess. I’ll also go ahead and double the dose.”

Me: “Well, I went to the ER this past week because I thought I was having a heart attack. The ER doc said that it was the extreme doses of the hormonal treatment I’m taking that caused my heart palpitations. They said to see you about it.”

Dr. Crazi, MD: “Yeah, go ahead and keep taking the drugs. You need them to get pregnant, and we wouldn’t want to stop this far into your treatment, right?!”

Eventually, my lab tech (who I’ve grown QUITE fond of, since I see her all the time!), let me know that my MD was planning to leave the practice. She had no intention of offering a referral to another MD, to extend any of these nasty meds she had me on, or even give me an idea of another plan of action. Lucky for me, my lab tech was nice enough to refer me to her favorite doctor in the practice, with whom I practically BEGGED to get an appointment from the front desk ladies, who were also my BFFs at this point.

Now, if you’ve been reading my blog, you may remember that I decided to discontinue my crazy meds at this point, since I didn’t even have a doctor supervising me when taking them, and because of their obviously psychotic properties. I had resolve; I was NOT going to take those meds again, no matter what those doctors told me.

When I finally did get an appointment, I walked in, and told this new MD the whole treatment history I’d had.

The first thing she said was, “Well, I don’t agree with the extreme hormonal treatments this other doctor gave you. I don’t believe it will actually help you get pregnant, since there have been no studies proving the validity of the med, so I’m not going to make you take them.”

I almost crainted. (If you’re wondering what that is, it’s a weird combination of cried/fainted.) Someone on my side!

Next thing? “Oh, and I’m discontinuing the medicine that made you stomach sick. There’s no medical proof that this medication will help you get pregnant, either. We would have been able to tell in the first couple of months whether or not it was working, and it obviously didn’t.”

Another craint.

Had I listened to my own body from the start, and chosen to seek another opinion, I wouldn’t have been miserable for a year. I wouldn’t have imagined my own death over and over again in my hormone-induced stupors, and I certainly wouldn’t have had death belly all year long.

I truly think that, in this day and age, where we have access to SO much information online, that we should do our research when it comes to our own treatment. Yes, doctors are technically the ones who write the prescriptions, but we feel the feelings. We barf, we ache, we get fevers, we cough, and most of us know when something is wrong. Don’t let your MD make your issue worse by ignoring your thoughts and opinions, and if they do, FIND A NEW ONE.  What’s sad is that my story isn’t the only one of its kind; I’ve read many PCOS horror stories about MD’s getting their own ideas about what should/shouldn’t work, and the patient gets to be the guinea pig.

Whether your issues are fertility-related, or just regarding your everyday health, remember that your body is your own. Don’t be afraid to get a second, third, or fourth opinion!

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2 thoughts on ““Your hands can heal, your hands can bruise…”

  1. You are so right about all of this! You really do have to be your own advocate and trust your instincts, which are often more reliable than a medically trained professional.

    Oh, and I think crainted may be one of my new favorite words.

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