Weeds In the Grass
Maxine Miller
Not Your Doctors Body - New Goals For Longevity
This blog is based on actual events, the names, cities, or states may have been changed to protect privacy
Past Office Visits
As a patient, I’ve been fired from at least three medical doctor’s offices—actually told not to come back. One doctor’s office was kind enough to send a friendly letter saying: Don’t come back to this office. Did I forget to shower that morning? Nothing of the kind.
The discontent stemmed from me attempting to get involved with “my” own medical treatment plan—wanting a voice in my care. Imagine that—having the nerve to make a decision about my healthcare. Shame on me, right?
I'll never forget one of my 'Doctor Firing.
I wanted time to work on my blood sugar and do my own research before my insurance plan got charged for me attending the doctor’s diabetic clinic. That’s when I received a letter.
Another one of my firings was verbal with the same message—don’t come back.
No matter, I’ve fired more doctors than the ones who fired me. I’m going to get into some background on why these events happened and why you might want to let your doctor fire you, too.
When did my inquisitive Nature Begin
It all started when I was a child, so blame my parents for bringing me to Earth. Remember, I’m a SCI-Fi Fantasy writer; it’ll bleed through from time to time. For as long as I can remember, my analytical and inquisitive nature had gotten me into trouble. People, especially doctors, didn’t like me asking too many questions they could not answer.
My siblings had issues with explaining things to me, too. One question would lead to another. I’d want to know:
- Who owned the dog that got hit?
- What color was the car that hit the dog?
- When did the dog realize it was hit?
- Where was the injury on the dog’s body?
- And why was the dog dumb enough to let the car hit it?
During the days of my first career, I didn’t know it was taboo to expect answers to basic follow-up questions about patients entrusted to my care. I was a nineteen-year-old African American nurse, and the doctors were white. I’ve had patients asked me to talk to their doctor(s) because the doctor(s) were not listening. The patients were made to feel like an ameba or an object far beneath their caregiver.
“Just do what I tell you to do,” was the usual answer, and then reporting me to the head nurse for a write-up—I was a disciplinary problem.
I got into so much trouble over caring about my patient’s concerns until I had to act as if I didn’t care.
Fast forward eleven years, and I'm a Mother-to-Be…
This was the worst event when I was accused of trying to treat myself. I was pregnant with my son and taking a diuretic for elevated blood pressure. I researched and found out that chemicals could indeed pass from mother to baby. I felt I had a right to know if taking this particular prescription medicine during pregnancy could cause harm to my developing fetus, like premature birth, NAS, and birth defects. But this detestable old jerk either didn’t know the answer or didn’t care enough to hear my concerns.
With most expectant mothers, the safety of her child supersedes her own. I was no different. I merely asked the doctor’s opinion on the subject of taking diuretics during pregnancy.
“Dear Dr. Detestable Old Jerk, I’ve been reading about the potential danger to the fetus when the mother takes diuretics during pregnancy. My blood pressure’s going down on its own, so I was wondering would it be possible to come off—” And that’s as far as I got!
“Look, stay on your medicine. What are you trying to do? Treat yourself?”
“No, I’m not trying to treat—”
“Stay on your medicine!”
Thirty-three years later, I still remember this unbelievably rude exchange. When I practiced nursing, I was used to hearing doctors give nurses short and snappy responses, yell at them—the whole nine yards. But a rude and snappy answer to me as a patient ate the last piece of my chocolate cake.
If ‘Dr. Detestable Old Jerk’ didn’t care enough to reassure me about the safety of this medication. How could I trust him to deliver my baby safely—not drop him head-first on the delivery room floor?
Dr. Detestable Old Jerk and I would never see each other again. Our paths crossed through a written complaint I filed. He was part of the OB/GYN staff serving the ‘Employees Only,’ medical center, owned by the vast corporation I worked for. Fortunately, I had other choices for my prenatal care.
Exercising my rights as the author of my care, I scatted away from the craziness. My new doctor listened to my concerns, saw that my blood pressure was coming down based on the records he’d sent for. He agreed it would benefit my baby if chemicals were avoided then contacted my Internal Medicine doctor.
The two doctors worked together, and I was able to come off the diuretic during pregnancy.
Note: I am not advocating for anyone to stop medication during pregnancy or under any other condition. What I am saying is: We are the keepers of our bodies. As a follow-up to what we’ve been told at the office. We should make a habit of doing our own research.
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In any situation, knowledge is power.
Don’t get me wrong: I respect good doctors 100%. I have doctors I visit on a regular basis and have annual physicals. But, I like to do what I call “Going-off-the-Grid.” I like to visit Natural Doctors, Chiropractors, Acupuncturist, Functional Medicine, Integrated Medicine, and so on. Many of these doctors/practitioners are not covered by health insurance (Big Pharma won’t allow it). The needle is moving slowly toward some of these healthcare practitioners and doctor’s services being covered through health insurance.
On Another Note: If you fall and crack open your head, break a leg, or fall out with chest pain, have someone jet you over to the emergency room. Please! However, with all industries, the decision on who’s the good guys and who’s in it to run up big bills lies in our hands—the consumers.
I’ve had health challenges since my early twenties. I’m sure by now that had I been too scared to question my diagnoses, prescriptions, or treatment recommendations, I’d be on at least fifteen (15) different chemicals with fifty different side effects—or worst, I’d just be dead. Below are some diagnoses and walk-backs I’ve received during the years…
- You’ve got Graves’s Disease
- No, sorry, it’s just an inflamed thyroid gland
- I hear a heart murmur
- No, I don’t hear a murmur
- Your blood pressure’s still too high. Let’s move you up to twelve (12) hydralazine a day. Don’t worry. If I had high blood pressure, I’d take twelve hydralazine, too.
- Let’s put you on a round of eight weeks of antibiotics for your sinus infection. Let’s see what happens then; if no change, we’ll just try another round of eight weeks.
- My Husband’s joints had mysteriously become inflamed. His internal medicine doctor sent him to the infamous rheumatologist specialist, who, after shelling out steroids and a couple of high-powered NSAIDS, only had a go-blind pill left to offer.
- NSAIDs = Nonsteroidal Anti-inflammatory Drugs = Tylenol, Ibuprofen, Celebrex, Aspirin….
- Ivan (A #1 Husband) was told: “if these pills don’t help your joints, I got nothing else for you.”
- “Oh, and by the way, Ivan, we’ll have to check your retina every six months to make sure your eyesight is not deteriorating.”
Let’s think about this—Ivan’s joints might feel better, but he might need a guide dog because he can’t see a damn thing.
No thanks, Doc!
I thought about what ‘Dr. Detestable Old Jerk’ had said years earlier. I wasn’t supposed to treat myself, but another doctor thought it’d be okay to swop Ivan’s joint pain for go-blind pills. In what world did that make sense?
Knowing my family and many others were headed down a path lined in deep dodo, I ramped up my research into Alternative Medicine. Over the past decades, I’ve learned soooo.. much that I’ll be sharing. When I say, biblically speaking: “The leaves shall be for the healing of the nation,” I mean just that.
After leaving the rheumatologist specialist, Ivan went back to his Internal Medicine doctor. The doctor ordered two rounds of eight-weeks of antibiotics. They love antibiotics when they don’t know what else to do.
Let's talk about long-term antibiotic use…
- Long-term antibiotic therapy leaves us open to developing resistance to antibiotics. Later, when we need them for another condition, they are ineffective because our bodies have become desensitized to their benefits.
- Additionally, our bodies can’t recognize good bacteria, which helps us (natural probiotics), versus bad bacteria that make us sick.
- Therefore: long-term antibiotic use wipe-out both types of bacteria. One approach I’ve heard to resolve this problem is when your doctor prescribes antibiotics, include natural probiotics, too.
- Space the probiotics a couple of hours after taking the antibiotics. It made sense to me to replace the good boys while healing.
Here’s a link talking about Probiotics and how we can get them even from our foods. I am not endorsing or representing any supplement found on this link.
Back to Ivan and his joints…
Ivan’s Internal Medicine doc. finally said: “I don’t know what’s wrong with you. All your tests came back normal. You don’t have rheumatoid arthritis. I don’t know what to do for you other than NSAID – Non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs.”
My Conclusion…
I realized how critical Ivan’s condition was when we took our son on a family trip to Disney World. By mid-vacation, Ivan had to use the cane I had brought along for him. From there, we applied for a handicap sticker. Later, we had to rent a wheelchair. Ivan could no longer walk the park.
Twenty-four years later…
Ivan’s near retirement and hops two planes going to work and two planes coming back. We still work on his joints, but he’s not blind and certainly not in a wheelchair.
Here’s a blog article from Dr. Axe’s website warning about the ghastly effect of antibiotic use.
https://draxe.com/antibiotic-side-effects/
Until next time: Warriors hang tight!
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