I almost forgot to mention another development from my appointment with R the other day. Remember this doctor who lectured me about my recovery and made me get (expensive) blood work done at the lab a few weeks ago?
She called R. To confirm that I was, in fact, receiving treatment for my eating disorder as I had claimed. I had only told her the name of the treatment center, and not R's name specifically, but somehow she managed to dig up that information and contact him directly. How??? I have no fucking clue. But I know that this is an insanely inappropriate violation of my privacy. I am planning to compose a letter to the director of College Health Center, as well as the head doctor, to make a formal complaint.
This is the kind of encounter that terrifies me about the world of medical care. I've always felt safe going to doctors, knowing that they are there to treat and to help and to cure. My pediatrician - really the only doctor I ever really saw throughout my entire childhood - was the kindest, warmest, most compassionate woman ever. But over the last couple years, I've had more negative run-ins with doctors than I can even count...so much time and money spent on useless appointments, treatments, and drugs.
I guess I've just learned to be my own biggest advocate, or else I'll to fall through the cracks. It also makes me so thankful for my treatment team - my therapist, my dietician, my GP, and now my new psychiatrist. I know they're looking out for me, they aren't giving up on me, and I trust them. Wish I could communicate that to them, even when I'm failing miserably at the recovery stuff.
No comments:
Post a Comment