CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

When I was very young, my family lived in a rural area where we only had access to one clinic that took our health insurance. While we could have driven into the city — about three hours — if there had ever been a situation that the clinic couldn’t handle or if we’d needed a special consultation, for the most part, my parents stuck with the local clinic. The clinic was very small; I don’t believe that there were ever more than four doctors on staff, and most of them were not there full time. Although the clinic tried to hire doctors who practiced family medicine — so they could see all ages of patients — there was one pediatrician on staff, and because of this, my brother and I were just automatically sent to him, as were most kids in our area. He often rushed through appointments and was impatient when my parents had questions, although since my brother and I were generally healthy kids, our family didn’t have too many issues with him… until I was four.

When I was four, I developed a strange rash on my neck, back, and legs. My mom took me to the clinic, where the pediatrician took one look and said that I had ringworm. He prescribed a salve, an oral antifungal medication, and an antifungal shampoo, since the rash on my neck was near my hairline and ringworm can cause permanent hair loss if it develops on your scalp. I was on the medication for over a month before the symptoms subsided, and we thought that it was over… until I had another rash a few months after that. And a few months after that. The doctor kept prescribing the same regime every time. I was miserable because the oral medication messed up my stomach, and my parents were driving themselves crazy trying to sanitize anything that I ever came into contact with to hopefully prevent a recurrence and to avoid my brother getting infected.

This happened about four times over the course of two years; although my parents asked if there could possibly be something else going on, since ringworm is not supposed to be a chronic condition, the doctor blew them off every time and essentially told them not to question his authority, since he’d gone to school for this and they hadn’t. He was very condescending, and when my parents asked for advice, he’d just repeat stuff about hygiene and washing up. My parents had actually just decided to take me into the city for a second opinion if I had another rash when the usual doctor stepped down and we got a new one.

My parents brought my brother and me in for our flu shots, and the new doctor noticed the beginnings of the rash on my arm. He asked my parents about it, and they told him that they weren’t interested in putting me on the same antifungals since they clearly weren’t working and were just making me miserable. He was confused and asked why I’d be on antifungals for eczema. A couple of quick tests confirmed that he was correct, that I definitely didn’t have ringworm, and instead of multiple infections, I had one condition that flared up every few months. I got a prescription for an anti-inflammatory cream, and the doctor suggested that my mom change our laundry detergent, and then the rash was handled. But that wasn’t the end of the story.

The new doctor checked my file and confirmed that the old doctor hadn’t done any testing to diagnose me the first time — no black-light test, no biopsies or cultures, nothing — and had just marked that it visually presented as ringworm. Each subsequent time I came in, the old doctor stuck to that rather than reassess. After that, my parents requested a copy of my file, and then saw the notes that the old doctor had made, which basically amounted to him complaining about working with dirty, poor, uneducated families who couldn’t keep their kids clean. He hadn’t bothered to do any further testing when my parents told him that they’d complied with all his suggestions for how to make sure that I didn’t catch “ringworm” again, because he just assumed that anyone who lived in our rural area must be a dumb, ignorant hick who couldn’t really value hygiene.

My parents were furious. We later learned that he had been asked to step down from his position in the clinic precisely because he’d had this attitude with most of the families who came into the clinic, and had said as much to one of the nurses, not realizing that a patient had overheard. One of the things he must not have realized about smaller communities like ours is that word spreads like wildfire. Dozens of families were suddenly requesting records for their children, and people found multiple stories like mine where the pediatrician diagnosed without testing, or made assumptions about families that impacted the way he handled their treatment. There was a community-wide effort to send complaints to the state medical board. I know that there was at least one successful lawsuit against him, and last I heard, that pediatrician’s license to practice medicine was revoked.

Meanwhile, our new doctor treated my eczema, saved my brother’s life during an allergic reaction, became a hero in our community for doing house calls, and has received state-wide recognition for being willing to go above and beyond for his patients.

(My friend and I are shoe shopping. It’s a weekend so the shop is a bit busy. I sit down to try some on, putting my handbag just underneath my seat. As I am trying on shoes, I am vaguely aware of someone on the bench next to me also trying something on. I finish and get up to gather my things and my handbag is gone. I go into a complete panic, grab my friend, and tell her my bag has been stolen.)

Me: “What do I do? Do I call the police or centre management? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

(At that very moment, I notice another woman still wandering around the shop, looking at shoes, carrying my bag in one hand and her own in another.)

Me: “Hey! Give me my bag!”

Lady: *looks down* “Oh! Sorry, I thought it was my mine.” *casually hands it back to me and goes back to her blissfully vacant browsing*

(Although enormously relieved, I cannot fathom what just went on there. Did she think she came with two handbags and just happened to have an identical one to mine which she mistook for hers? Did she try to steal mine and think, rather than running off, she should continue shopping? What?)

(I have epilepsy and have had several partial-complex seizures. I have been delivered by ambulance to the city hospital; unfortunately, the neurologist on call is one who I stopped seeing when he accused me of faking seizures in order to get attention, possibly because he is friendly with the neurologist who molested me when I was a teen.)

ER Nurse: “Her ID says she has epilepsy. We need to make sure she’s had her medication today.”

Neurologist: “There’s no need. She’s just being dramatic.” *to me* “[My Name]! Stop trying to make everyone feel sorry for you.” *to the nurse* “Give her some [anxiety medication]. She’ll tell you it gives her panic attacks; she’s a chronic liar. Just do it.”

(I am not sure what happens next, but I wake up in the darkened room alone. Confused and sick, I throw up in a trash bin and wander down an empty hall until I find an exit. I remember walking blankly until I find a street sign, then calling my sister and asking her to pick me up. About an hour later, I am home in bed when the phone rings and my mother answers.)

Caller: “This is [Caller] from [Hospital]. Your daughter was here earlier today. She isn’t currently in the room and hasn’t been seen in a few hours; would you like us to begin looking for her?”

Mother: “She’s with us now, and safe, no thanks to you.”

Caller: “Oh, okay. When can she come in to give us her billing information?”

(I did go back, with my parents… and a lawyer. He suggested that charging me for improper treatment that I had never consented to, and had been harmed by, might not be in their best interest. They dropped the bill. They also sent my mother flowers, which was weird.)

(I work as a cashier in a supermarket. Sometimes we get parents who come to the register to pay for the groceries and hand cashiers some empty wrapping papers, juice boxes, etc. because their kids have consumed the items in question during their shopping. Technically, it’s not all right to do this, since the groceries should obviously be paid before consuming them, but I guess in the name of good customer service we usually don’t do much about it. A lady approaches my register with her toddler. She hands me an empty juice box, empty croissant paper from our deli, and a wrapping paper of an ice cream.)

Mother: “Could you please scan these items, too? Sorry, I had to give these to him to eat because he was misbehaving so much!”

Me: *thinking* “So, you decided to reward him because of that?”

(I mean, seriously… I have seen this happen quite often: “Oh, my child was screaming and throwing a tantrum in the supermarket, so I, like, had NO CHOICE but to give him an ice cream so he would keep quiet during the shopping.” If I threw a tantrum in a supermarket when I was a child, my parents CARRIED me out of the store and wouldn’t take me back in before I calmed down. And if I didn’t, they usually took me to our car to wait with either of my parents while the other one did the shopping without us two. I DEFINITELY did not get any snacks as a reward for my tantrum.)

(I have been battling a lot of stomach pain and bloating. One day, it becomes unbearable. My regular doctor’s office is closed, so I go to Urgent Care. The doctor comes in and asks what my symptoms are. I’ve just finished describing them to her.)

Doctor: “And is there any chance you’re pregnant?”

Me: *laughs* “Nope. No chance.”

Doctor: “Don’t laugh, young lady. It’s a normal diagnosis for a young lady in her 20s.”

Me: “I understand that. But if I’m pregnant, you’d better start looking for a star, three wise men, and some shepherds.”

(I’ve used this joke with my regular doctor and my OBGYN, and they both laughed. This doctor, however, frowns and folds her arms.)

Doctor: “Uh-huh. Your chart says you’re on birth control. Tell me, what does a ‘virgin’ need birth control for?”

(Yes, she actually air-quotes “virgin” with her fingers. I explode.)

Me: “Because I have severe period problems, and I can’t afford to be in bed for two weeks a month with cramps and migraines! Not everyone who is on birth control does it so they can have sex! Way to assume things, though. Do you do this to all your female patients?”

Doctor: “Um… Let’s just check your stomach, shall we?”

Me: “Yes, please!”

(As she’s examining me:)

Doctor: “Ah… I think it’s really admirable to see a young lady in her 20s who is still… pure.”

Me: “Don’t try to make this better.”

Doctor: “Sorry.”

(She announced that she had no idea what I had, and sent me home with an antibiotic. I didn’t take it. I called my regular doctor when the office reopened. He ordered a bunch of tests. It was determined later that I had a nasty case of IBS.)