Saturday, August 11, 2012

Medicalization

I have had the privilege of visiting a doctor's office, a dentist, and a hospital all in the last week.  Only the dentist was for me; the others were in support roles.  It never ceases to amaze me the stark contrast in levels of power.  Two of the doctors were male and acted like good old boys, throwing around slang names for body parts, or in the case of my dentist, doing the flirty old man thing.  Normally I don't sit still for being referred to as "a pretty young thing."  This is not a prince song.  But this man had the power to *hurt* me.  Pain doesn't bother me too much since I have learned from kinky people how to reframe it as intense sensation.  However, I have panic attacks in dentist's chairs.  For years, I had a dentist that did not recognize Novocaine takes longer to work on me than normal.  I didn't know it wasn't supposed to hurt.  And now, despite knowing better and having a different relationship to pain, I hear that drill and feel pressure on my teeth and my heart starts racing, I flush, sweat, start breathing funny.  Every time I go to the dentist, I have to warn them that I am like this, debasing myself further than my already-low patient status.  I always leave feeling chastised for my poor mental fortitude, not to mention my terrible teeth.  Despite a current strict dental regimen, my lackadaisical training in basic dental hygiene as a child has not served me well.  I feel morally judged and have been found lacking.

At the hospital, my friend had her gallbladder removed.  I was there for her recovery period.  The nurse was very serious and patronizing.  I get that my friend just woke up from anesthesia and was on heavy drugs, but the nurse had no time to smile at our joking.  Apparently laughter has no place in the hospital.  Chastened once again, we made it out of there.

There is something about paying people to hurt you.  Pain is a funny thing.  In some settings, it is considered a symptom of violence.  In other cases, it indicates growth or healing.  But I don't treat my tattoo artist (who I love!) nearly the same way I treat my doctor.  The current for-profit model of health care doesn't help.  I feel rushed in and out.  I have to write everything down before hand, otherwise I may miss something in my five minutes with the doctor.  One handy trick I've learned is to never sit on the exam table if you can help it. Doctors treat you more like a person when you are sitting in a chair.

I have only had insurance for about a year and a half now.  Some things I am super impressed with, like being able to afford my medicine.  Other things creep me out, like when my doctor expected me to know that a certain test wasn't appropriate for me.  Not only do I have to pay money for his services, but now I am supposed to know what I need before I get there?  Talk about socializing the cost.

This week, none of the visits to various places of medical practice were horrible.  Mostly they were uncomfortable and unsettling.  Their are very few places I feel I lack agency, and the doctor's office is one of them.

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