My experience with doctors has ranged from disastrous to wonderful, and everything in between. The urologist who did my sphincterotomy was wonderful. The medical school professor who had his students give me an hour-long genetic exam was high-quality and understanding to boot. Some of the others, not so much. The worst, by far, was the radiologist who treated my cerebellum as though it were a tumor, and shrank it. I just finished my yearly BC/BS wellness checkup, given by a CRNP, who was impressed with how well I manage. Once, a student phlebotomist tried to insert a needle, unsuccessfully, at least five times in both arms, before her professor stepped in, cleaned up the blood which had spattered all over me, the sheets and bedframe, and did the professional job her student, in a sheer panic, could not do. I have had doctors call me an interesting patient, and a malingerer. The doctor who called me a malingerer simply did not have the technology which enabled him to verify my complaints. As incontinents, we need to look for ways to retain our humanity, our personhood, in the face of invasive, embarrassing exams, and medications that too often are all side effect, no cure.
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