When the Doctor Doesn’t Listen
You ever sit in a cold, drabby exam room, heart racing, palms sweaty trying to explain what's wrong only to have your pain shrink under the fluorescent lights?
The Day I Lost My Voice (and didn't know it)
One would think that after several years, that day of being dismissed by someone I was encouraged to trust would fade from my mind. But it doesn’t.
It doesn’t let me go, so I won’t try to ignore it anymore. By writing this, I’m embracing it and taking my power back.
After waiting in the lobby for what felt like hours, I was finally “seen.” Or so I thought.
But what happened next was something I’d least expect, especially because I gave so much trust to those who were called “professionals.” I learned that day that not everyone knows all the answers.
As an impressionable young child, I told them what I knew and what I knew was my body. But the response they gave me made me shocked.
To think that after I shared what I felt and noticed different about my body, with shaky breath and puppy-dog eyes, the only response was:
“Are you sure you can’t see?”
It froze me.
The air in that room suddenly went sharp.
It felt cold, and now those doctors I once trusted looked like eerie figures.
What else could I say?
So I said nothing.
The Quiet Damage of Being Unheard
The fact of being questioned and not believed by those we’re taught to trust didn’t just hurt physically.
Yes it took my eyesight, turned my skin pale, gave me dark under-eyes, and made my hair fall from every place it grew.
But it also did something not commonly noticed: it changed the emotional landscape of who I was as a little girl.
Everything I loved to do out of pure joy and youth became a way to cope. To attempt to ignore what happened to me.
Creating clay miniatures, dancing, and crafting were no longer just hobbies; they became ways to hold on to that little girl before.
Peaceful sleep became insomnia.
Calming showers became mental chaos.
“Was I too dramatic?”
“Did I imagine it?”
“Maybe they’re right…”
Those questions became a broken record in my tasteful collection of ‘80s R&B.
Healing Doesn't Mean Forgetting
So how does one heal from this?
I’m not sure but if you have any sincerely helpful suggestions, my inbox is open.
Seriously, that’s not a joke. But what “healing culture” is… might be.
Healing, to me, isn’t just one thing.
Hot yoga on Tuesday and sauna sessions on Friday aren’t the cure-all, be-all.
But they are a step in the right direction, doing things I want to do, because I want to do them for me.
I haven’t found the exact blueprint of how to reclaim agency yet. I’m still searching.
But I have found that taking even the smallest moment to jot down what I’m feeling, or reflect on how my day went, helps me feel a little more in control of what once felt stripped away.
I don’t say all this for sympathy.
I say it to connect with someone who may have felt even a fraction of what I did and is also trying to find that same blueprint.
I don’t believe you should forget what happened to you.
Instead, extend grace to yourself for healing in the way that’s best for you, and for embracing that it may take more time than you’d hope.
Sure is something, isn’t it?
Somebody can rain on your day, and in a quick second, cause a lifetime of floods.
But my friend, build you a boat and survive.
The art of Speaking Up Without Apologizing
If you’re anything like me, an avid, not-so-proud, people-pleasing, quiet-myself-to-limit-conflict gal this section is for you.
Although those doctors scarred me and faced no real consequences (that I know of), that didn’t mean I could avoid ever coming into contact with one again.
I wanted to try that theory, but in reality, that couldn’t be done.
That day was only the beginning of a rollercoaster of chronic illness. (More on that later.)
But for now, I want to share four practical things that have helped me when it’s time to visit the doctor again:
1. Write down your symptoms beforehand.
That way, you can hand it to your care provider or repeat it when your confidence tries to go into hiding.
2. Bring a friend or advocate.
It never hurts to have someone in the appointment with you, someone you trust and who has your best interests at heart. (If you decide to bring your Mama Bear, proceed with caution!)
3. Ask, “Can you help me understand why you feel that way?”
Don’t worry if this feels tough at first. It can be hard to ask such a question to your provider, but I promise you, you are strong, and you have a right to know. Their perceptions directly impact your care.
4. Request a summary before you leave.
It can help you later to have something written to revert back to. You can request an After Visit Summary at the front desk, or ask your provider to write a brief note of the major points discussed during your appointment. It just may come in handy when researching healing modalities to accompany your care later.
Need more helpful tips? Grab my Recentering Rituals Guide:
It gives more insight on how to recenter when something (or someone) rattles you. Plus, it’s free. So… why not?!
Reflections
You deserve to be heard not because your pain has to be proven or validated, but because you are a person. And you matter.
I hear you.
I see you.
I empathize with you.
You know your body better than anyone.
And at any moment, if your detection skills feel a bit fuzzy, take a moment to recenter because you are the most powerful gift you’ll ever own.
Key Takeaways (for the 1-minute readers)
Healing starts when we believe our own pain, even when others don’t.
Don’t force yourself to forget what happened to you instead, extend grace for healing in the way that’s best for you.
Somebody can rain on your day and, in a quick second, cause a lifetime of floods. But my friend, build you a boat and survive.
Thanks for sitting with me awhile.
Until next time my friend,
Tybre’ana