I really don’t like waiting in my doctor’s office.
Don’t get me wrong, I hate waiting, but it’s the stuff on the walls that really bothers me. Having never considered myself overly squeamish, I admit to having trouble looking at what passes for wall-coverings.
There’s the full colour, larger than life, bacterial and fungal skin infection poster.
There’s the full colour, larger than life, ear, nose, throat, and lung infection poster.
There’s the full colour, larger than life, what else can be wrong with me poster …
Since I’m rarely at the doctor without waiting on some scary test result or the like, I’m feeling really on edge, until I spot a blessedly plain white paper. Heartened, my eyes focus on its message.
“Limit One Issue Per Visit”
Now, the words “one issue” are in bold and underlined and the “one” is even highlighted in faded yellow.
Those other posters aren’t looking so bad now, are they?
So, I have to wonder, is that a demand, request, or conversation starter?
Sure, I’ve asked my doctor about it before. I’ve never had a satisfactory answer … probably because she doesn’t have one to offer.
I can empathize, I really can. There’s only so much time and you don’t get paid if you can’t bill for the time taken. It’s an impossible quandary: spend the time with the patient as you’ve committed to do OR get paid for the work that you deserve to be compensated for.
Here’s the thing: I do what I can to bring a single issue to each visit, even if that means booking more time or a second appointment on another day. Consider what that means: I’m a chronic disease patient and getting out to that appointment isn’t easy on the best of days. I don’t have simple issues. I don’t have a single issue. I routinely have more than a single test result or condition to discuss. And, considering it can take a couple weeks to get a single appointment, god only knows what new weird and unpleasant things have entered into my health orbit.
So, there I sat waiting for what was going to be really bad or only bad in the “we still don’t know what’s wrong with you but have ruled out some really bad things” sense; all the while studiously ignoring the infection posters because that’s really what I don’t need to be thinking about at that time. And, I wondered, should I feel guilty that not only do I have to discuss this test result and next steps, but what appears to be a new infection at my previously healed PICC site?
The stark black and white paper notice demanded a response. I wasn’t sure what it should be. My doctor isn’t getting the wool pulled over her eyes. She knows I’m a complex walking set of issues.
Whatever is wrong with me at that moment is tied to everything else about me. We can’t discuss a new medication without considering what happened the last time I tried something new. We can’t discuss ruling out one possibility without considering what the last test showed. We can’t treat one infection without considering all the other infections I have going at the same time.
I want to respect my doctor’s time.
I want to do my part to ensure my doctor is compensated fairly.
I want my doctor to treat the whole me, each and every time.
Too often, as patients, we push for one more question to be answered, one more concern to be allayed, one more possibility to be considered … and we feel guilty.
Too often, as patients, we are concerned how we sound when we ask for what we need, how we look if we still don’t understand and ask for further clarification, how we seem when we just can’t stop crying … and we feel guilty.
Too often, as patients, we return home with less than what we want, need, and deserve … and we feel guilty.
There has to be a balance and here’s mine: One issue? Fine, I’m the issue. I, the patient, am the one issue. I will respect the time limit. I will read anything and everything you ask me to. I will come prepared with questions, paper to record our exchange, and an advocate when and as needed.
Here’s what I want in return: Patience. Forthrightness. Respect.
Be patient with my questions, my concerns, my tears …
Be forthright about what you know and don’t know, can and can’t do …
Be respectful of what it takes of me to come to you vulnerable, scared, and in pain.
I am the one issue.
Me, the patient … we’ll figure out the rest together.