#tw medical gaslighting

[awkward-tension-art]

Test Results

This is more or less self-indulgent to the time I had to fight tooth and nail to get a proper diagnosis for my fatigue issues. My heart goes out to everyone battling the healthcare system to get proper care for chronic diseases. My heart is with you, and I hope you find a doctor who can help get answers.

Pronouns: Gender-neutral, but I wrote this with AFAB!reader in mind.

Tw: Medical procedures, chronic illness, medical gaslighting, swearing, this has a lot of feelings put into it

Minors, get out of here. My writing isn’t for you.

“Your blood test results came back clear”

Those words would have most people feeling relief. Nothing was wrong. They were healthy.

But those words to you brought you to tears.

You sobbed in the driver seat of your car. What doctor was this? The 5th? 6th? How long did you wait to see this latest doctor? How many copays have you been charged? How much blood has been taken?

All of that, you still didn’t have answers!

You were sick. And no one seemed to care enough to find out why.

It’s all in your head.

It’s your period.

You need to lose weight.

You’re stressed.

You sobbed again. And again. Hot tears streamed down your face as you drove home. You had to pull over into a grocery store parking lot just to weep again. Getting home took twice as long.

You didn’t feel much better once you were sitting on your bed. Your tear-filled eyes kept looking at the paper in your hands.

Within range.

Negative.

All clear.

Nothings wrong.

Why were you sick?! You knew your body shouldn’t feel this way. This wasn’t normal.

Your breath hitched and you crumbled up the blood test results. They’ll be added to the ever growing file of other useless results that told you nothing.

Your face was in your hands as you broke down in frustration.

You were so tired.

Your thoughts were so overwhelming, you didn’t hear the door to your bedroom open.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Leon, your ever sweet boyfriend, knelt in front of you, “take a breath. What’s wrong? What did the doctor say?”

“Nothing!” You wept, “still nothing! They didn’t even bother to talk to me about other referrals!” Your finger pointed to the crumbled up papers with your results.

Leon straightened out the paper to look at it, “another CBC?”

Complete blood count. The most standard of blood tests. The one that all doctors seemed to default to. The test that wasn’t helping you at all.

“They didn’t want to test for anything else.” You whimpered, shoulders shaking, “Why won’t anyone listen to me?”

His strong arms wrapped around you. Leon knew was it was like to scream for answers and only be left with silence in return. He rubbed your back, just letting you cry out your feelings.

By the end of it you were exhausted.

“I’m so tired…” you sniffled. There really wasn’t any other word for it. You were just so damn tired.

“I know.” He murmured, planting a kiss on your head. He held you so tightly. So protectively, “Want me to come with you to the next appointment?”

You debated. Your words and concerns weren’t being taken seriously. Would they listen to Leon? Would they finally do more tests than the standard ones? Would they dig deeper, and try and find the source of your misery?

“Please?” You asked softly, “I don’t…maybe they’ll listen to you.”

He scoffed, “they should be listening to you.”

“They aren’t.”

“I know.” Leon whispered, “I know. And it’s not fair.”

You largely calm down now. Still, you dreaded the idea of making another appointment just to get referred to someone else. You’ve been ping-ponged around the medical specialists in your community so many times you could probably get an Olympic medal for it.

“Next time a doctor tries to brush you off, I can go all asshole and demand for more tests.” Your boyfriend said suddenly.

You couldn’t help but snort. Maybe that could work. At least he’d be able to hold your hand while you got your blood taken again.

“I think I’d like that.” You rested your head on his shoulder.

“We’ll figure this out.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “I’ll help fight for you.”

“Thanks Leon.” You mumbled, giving him a small smile.

At least he believed you. Even if no one else did.

[gabbagepatch]

ENT totally dismissed me 3-19-2024

I had my ENT appointment yesterday after waiting three months and I probably saw the doctor for about five minutes. He came in, didn’t ask any questions, looked bored while I told him what was happening, questioned the test results I just got 20 minutes ago in his practice, didn’t look at my MRI, argued with me about my symptoms, and told me that he couldn’t do anything. He offered me Valium if “it would make me feel better”. I said no thanks.

He told me I'm too young for anything to be wrong and that it'll go away "any minute." He scheduled another appointment two months from now. Wtaf? Even if, hypothetically, this thing I've been living with for 1/3 of the year will just disappear in the future--I'm still being disabled by it right now!

If anything it's getting worse, not better. My vision is distorted now and I'm getting migraines 4-5 times a week. The pressure in my ear caused my eardrum to burst. How the hell can anyone look me in the eye and say to wait until it ~goes away~?

I could not stop crying afterwards, thank the Lord my mom was there and thank Him again for my therapy appointment tomorrow. I feel so defeated, sad, angry, and my ear really fucking hurts.

I'm so heartbroken. My PCP recommended him so highly, and I really trust him. I expected to at least be seen for more than five minutes. He prescribed me steroid drops and if those don't give me miraculous improvement after 7 days I'm looking for a neurologist and/or neurotologist.

I am absolutely not waiting another two months for treatment just because Dr. Donothing thinks 21 year-old women can't be ill. Fuck that noise.

[goatvomit]

I've been officially diagnosed with POTS today. While the condition itself is not a victory, the diagnosis is.

I've been fighting various doctors for years trying to get them to diagnose me with something. But it was always, "Oh your labs are normal!" "Have you tried losing weight?" "I see anxiety is listed in your history..."

NO MORE. They watched my pulse go up and up as I stood up. Within a timed minute my heart rate went from about 97 (sitting upright) to 128 (stood up), and they were like, "Uh, yeah okay. Sit back down. Um. Yeah so... POTS."

It was like a lightning bolt shot through me. I KNEW IT! I've finally been vindicated. Myself, a year ago, was suffering in silence for many years with ~ mystery symptoms ~ that were all dismissed at my previous providers.

Now, I have PROOF.

It's validating but also... Rage inducing? All my previous doctors had to do was watch my pulse/BP as I laid down, sat, and stood up. They would have seen the abnormality. All these years wasted. You know what I mean? Anyway, I'm beyond happy. I can move forward with some sort of treatment plan to try and regulate things as best as we can.

[nbsunflowergay]

id like to thank my local hospital for gaslighting me. first when the intake nurse gave me the most ignorant look when i told her i was on a prescribed narcotic for my disruptive rem disorder and refused to believe me when i finished telling her all my meds and kept asking if i was on any illicit drugs. then the first nurse trying to make me believe the MASSIVE EAR INFECTION i had was 'just allergies', the that nurse and another nurse outside my room laughed about it and made comments about how i should 'just learn to clean my ears properly' . then when i had to go back the next day because it was in so much pain i was throwing up and shaking uncontrollably from the pain and my brother had to carry me and the entire right side of my face was massively swollen the second (male) nurse looked me dead in the eyes and told me i was a liar and exaggerating when i told him the pain was a 10/10 and i just needed to get over myself.

anyways i have 2 more days on the ear drops and finished the oral antibiotic today and other than the expected side effects from the antibiotic i feel much better. ive lost significant hearing in my right ear, which is unfortunate on many levels but like im already mostly deaf in my leaf ear so i had to really sole on the right ear.

[lonelysocksclub]

Is it feminism if the senior physician trying to dismiss my autoimmune disorder as hysteria is a woman?

[thistleanddown]

Joaquin's ten-year plan was simple: Get his bachelor's degree in environmental science (major forestry, minor conservation), find literally any well-paying job in that field, live far, far away from his parents, pay off his student loans, and maybe finally tell Daisy he's been in love with her since sophomore year.

By all accounts, Joaquin had done it. He'd graduated as valedictorian, found a lifelong career working to help conserve both California redwoods and sequoias (which are not the same tree, thank you very much), and was a comfortable 925 miles from home. And sure, maybe that last one was still a work-in-progress, but to his credit it was all wrapping up nicely.

And then Joaquin got bitten. Not on the job by a rattlesnake or mosquito, or at home by a spider. He was walking home from the bar--he'd insisted he was fine to walk, keys stashed safely in his pocket to pick his car up in the morning--and he was bitten.

Officially? His admittance papers listed it as an unknown canine, possibly a coyote.

But that wasn't what Joaquin had seen. He knows what a coyote looks like. For God's sake, he grew up in Albuquerque--coyotes were about as common as seagulls on the boardwalk! A coyote wouldn't run directly towards someone, snarling so loud Joaquin could feel it in his bones. Coyotes weren't twice his size. They couldn't pin him to the ground with a paw that felt too much like a hand, or leave a bite mark so wide and deep his scapula had chipped.

The paramedics who found him drop by to see how he is. They arrive after his second round of rabies shots. He's tired and sore, but they tell him he's looking good.

"We just wanted to follow up,"says one, an older man with silver-blond hair and crow's feet. "Do you have any idea what bit you?"

Joaquin sits up, wincing at the burning pain in his shoulder and chest, and succinctly says, "It was a werewolf."

Both paramedics blink.

"Werewolf?" Asks the second, who looks to be Joaquin's age.

Joaquin nods. The two look at one another, then to Joaquin, and back again.

"Werewolf,"the younger one repeats. "You're sure about that?"

"Yes, I'm sure! It's not an easy mistake to make. I know what happened to me. It was a werewolf!"

The paramedics look at each other again.

"We haven't had any werewolves in Fresno since the 80's,"the older one says. "Are you really sure? You were pretty drunk."

Joaquin blinks. He had two drinks. He's seen his chart--his BAC was 0.04%. Below the 0.08% legal limit and barely a buzz, but Joaquin refused to chance driving. He was still aware. 'Pretty drunk' as the paramedic had described was 0.17%--which Joaquin was nowhere near.

"Please leave,"Joaquin asks, suddenly so very tired.

When a different nurse strides in to change his IV, she asks what happened.

"It was a werewolf,"he tells the nurse, who doesn't even look up from her clipboard.

"Don't be ridiculous,"she admonishes, clicking her tongue. "Werewolves and most supernatural folk are rare here. It's too hot."

"I live with a vampire,"Joaquin says. "It's not too hot for her."

The nurse lets out a sigh, fixing him with a look that screams 'what do you want me to tell you?'

When the surgeon that had done Joaquin's stitches comes by to check on him, he holds his chart and laughs.

"I'd never seen a dog bite that big!"

"It was a werewolf,"Joaquin says again.

At this, the surgeon tilts his head.

"You sure? Looks more like a pit bull to me. Here, see how the teeth are arranged?"

He holds a photo of Joaquin's injury out to him. With the end of his pen, he gestures to the width of the jaw and marks out the shape, and Joaquin can feel those same teeth tear into him again. It's still the exact same wound. But, somehow, it suddenly looks smaller in the picture.

"So, you see what I mean?" The surgeon asks. "It's an easy mistake, but it was just a dog."

"Then why does it say 'coyote' in my chart?"

From behind wire framed glasses, the surgeon glares at Joaquin. He's still smiling, although it's thinner than before and doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"It does?" Asks the surgeon an a cold, even voice.

"Never mind,"Joaquin finally says. "Just-- When am I getting discharged?"

"End of tonight, thankfully,"the surgeon says, "You'll have to come back next week for continued rabies shots."

He goes to leave just then, but turns on his heel, brows creased in some form of epiphany.

"By the way, have you ever been tested for an anxiety disorder?"

Joaquin had been tested. He didn't have anxiety. He had a dopamine deficiency, inattentive-type ADHD, not anxiety. Even if he was, anxiety can't produce a hallucination powerful enough to see a coyote or a dog as a werewolf.

And yet, Joaquin can't help but wonder, briefly, if his diagnosis was wrong.

When Joaquin goes to fill his prescription, the pharmacist looks at the painkillers and antibiotics. Bushy brows raised high, he reads it over and over again, shocked at the potency of the medication.

"Good lord! What on earth happened to you,"he gapes.

"I got bit,"Joaquin says.

"By what?"

Joaquin's lips purse into a thin line. He doesn't answer.

[caassette]

reading an article from 2009 about fibromyalgia beside myself at british doctors sjlkfdjs

[suspensefulpen]

Guys I love holiday whump.

It’s like the best combo. It’s supposed to be the happy time of the year. But you can completely ruin it by torturing a poor soul with no remorse.

Take them away from everything they know and love. Make them lonely. Condition them to believe the holidays are the scariest time of the year and that something bad will happen to them if they try to leave. Condition a Scrooge into loving the holidays. Chain them down in Christmas lights. Tie them to a Christmas tree. Burn them with candle wax. Make their loved ones have to see them in a hospital bed with multiple wires attached to them, barely breathing.

I’m not a Scrooge but I need this fr

[atariaaren]

i was planning on drawing more panels, but i began to lose steam by the time i finished the 11th one ^^;;

[strawberrycat18]

When other people say they’re dizzy, they mean ‘phew! My equilibrium is a bit off! In a just a few moments I’ll be fine!’

When I say I’m dizzy, I mean something very different.

I mean that I can see black spots in my vision, and I can’t tell if this is going to be the time I pass out.

It means that the world is swimming underneath my feet, stretching and distorting like an obstacle course even when it’s just a straight, flat path.

It means there’s so much pressure in my head and not nearly enough.

It means that I can feel my heart speed up and beat harder, trying to adjust to the new gravity, just because I’ve shifted slightly.

It means I can feel the nausea rising in my stomach and the bile come up my throat.

It means that walking is a challenge. Getting a snack is a challenge, going to the bathroom is a challenge. Sitting up is a challenge.

So, when I say I’m dizzy, I’m trying to dumb it down so that you can understand a fraction of what I’m feeling. Not that I’m not feeling it. On good days, it’s a hindrance. On bad days it stops me doing anything. Stop telling me that ‘just being dizzy’ doesn’t make me ‘that disabled’. You barely know the half of it.

[decora-kai]

Yk i wish medical professionals could actually act fucking professional and understand that being in constant pain is not something that 'everyone has' or 'just growing pains'. I want them to recognise that I'm not just a whining kid who wants attention, or an unhealthy kid who just needs to exercise. It fucking pisses me off. I'm also pissed because I feel like my level of pain doesn't warrant any help compared to others. I know some people with chronic pain are bed bound 24/7 and because of fucking medical gaslighting I feel like I'm not worthy of a diagnosis because I'm not also stuck to bed forever. Like Im with my chronically ill friends who have to deal with such bad pain that they probably will never be able to leave their house and I feel for them, but just because I'm not 'as bad' as them doesn't mean I'm just a pussy bitch.

[lifeafterpsychiatry]

Hey Kat, I just saw the blog name change and the timing was perfect for me! I just got out of a psych review where I asked to be discharged, because long story short I'm sick of being mistreated and gaslit by the system. I've been wrongly medicated to the point of near permanent organ damage, accused of lying more times than I can count, kicked out of appointments I had to travel 2 hours to after 5 minutes for being "obviously not in the mood to co-operate" (I was having a bad psychotic episode and asked them to please speak slower because I was struggling to concentrate), accused of "just not trying hard enough" when I left higher education after becoming literally unable to read and "if you really wanted it you would have done it" in response to dropping perusing my PhD. I've experienced psychosis for 20 years now, daily for the last 8, and they've blamed everything from my autism to being transgender, as well as being denied a formal diagnosis as "that wouldn't help anything" and told there's no point medicating me, as 1 antipsychotic didn't work and another helped with some things, but not others, so apparently there's no use trying more than 2 🙄 Therapy hasn't helped (again, repeatedly accused of lying, especially in regards to trauma, and told my symptoms were "aytipical" so obviously I'm exaggerating because "no one else has symptoms like yours" when said symptoms were just visual hallucinations. Like I'm pretty sure other people get those lmao). When asking to be discharged they also said I "clearly wasn't ready to put in the work to get better, but maybe one day" because of course I'm simply not trying hard enough to be healthy, that's why I'm mentally ill! Anyways, sorry for the rant, but here's to us surviving the system and looking forward to a life after psychiatry! Cheers! 🥂

I'm so sorry you've been going through all of this! And I really do think that the "but there are good psychs out there!" narrative completely misses the fact that even though not all psychs are individually abusive, psychiatry as a whole is a carceral system with SYSTEMIC issues that go much deeper than whether an individual psych is a nice person.

[yellowlikelemons]

Hiii uhm did you know it'd be kind of hot if you slipped me my pills on your fingers through my mouth and then held it shut until i swallowed them. Especially if you pat my cheek afterwards and told me "you need these, dear"

[auschizm]

one difficulty in explaining to people how doctors can force medication on patients is that they assume that forced hospitalization is always a net positive. like if you say they threatened me with hospitalization if i wouldn’t take the pills then they see that as you being difficult because obviously if you’re sick you need to go to the hospital and if you don’t agree then you’re just being an irrational contrarian for no reason. there’s a fundamental refusal on the part of some people to acknowledge that psychotic people are full human beings who should be in charge of what happens to their bodies which makes them think that if you’re in disagreement with a doctor you’re not to be trusted, so any kind of forced medicalization story is suspicious bc of course it wouldn’t need to be forced if you weren’t so crazy. very similar to catch 22 (in a literal sense, this is a plot point in the novel catch 22) because like if a doctor wants you to be hospitalized and you don’t that must mean you need to be hospitalized because you’re so crazy you’re arguing with your doctor. of course if you want to hospitalized people cheer you on because you’re seeing sense supposedly. no way to win.

on a side note i really appreciate you for running this blog, i find it really difficult to talk to even other mentally ill people because so many spaces are just so invested in telling people to do everything their doctor says without criticism. i appreciate your perspective

Yeah what you describe is a very scary and unfair situation that many psychosis spec people get caught up in. And that's definitely part of the reason why the ideology of the anti psychiatry movement is part of the foundation of this project

[syscultureis]

tw medical malpractice i think?

Self-dx'ed sys culture is feeling invalid because you're self-dx'ed :( but you HAD to because your old psychiatrist was gaslighting you and your family doesn't believe in plurality unless you're a serial killer

-🖤🩶🤍🩷

Self diagnosis is valid

[thehellsaint]

Dr. Colin Ross is a DSM contributor. He's not just some random doctor. He is PART of that academic consensus you're talking about.

I couldn't find anything about him contributing to the DSM but what I did find was a lot of information from a malpractice suit brought against him for abusing his patients at an inpatient facility.

Here's Elizabeth Hart's affidavit describing being over medicated, wherein Dr Ross would dismiss her complaints by calling them switches and naming different alters responsible for her reactions.

While still hospitalized in the ward, Dr. Ross admitted a male patient in what was, up until that point, a female only ward. The patient had videos on file of him sexually assaulting multiple women. There's no surprise then that the patient assaulted Ms. Hart and when she sought help from Dr. Ross he said, "I didn't think he would do that on the ward."

When she reported him to the local paper for negligence resulting in her sexual assault while in his care, he "became furious" and "told me I had to get out." He then proceeded with the patient discharge of Ms. Hart despite knowing he would be forcing her out to face extreme withdrawals from the medication he put her on.

He left that hospital some time later, abandoning her with no recommendation or way to set up a continuation of treatment, she was left to face the addiction he created alone. When she finally was able to speak to him again, he suggested more medication.

The next year, he would deny to her face that he ever gave her medication in the first place.

This is a very brief summary of only the first parts of one patients affidavit, of which there are two that I saw when looking at the case. Both victims of his malpractice continue to explain the things he put them through and I recommend reading through them.

But sure, if he says what endos wanna hear then his word is gospel, I guess.