(At the age of 19 my mother decides it is time for me to get my first pap smear and checkup with a gynecologist. My appointment starts out normally; the nurse is very nice and explains what will happen, before leaving me alone to change into a gown. I settle myself on the table before the doctor comes in. He is an older man in his late 50s, rather heavy set, and with a bulbous nose.)

Ob/Gyn: “Good morning! So, what brings you in today?”

Me: “I recently turned 19, and my mother suggested it was time for me to get my first pap smear, since I am sexually active.”

Ob/Gyn: “Your mom is silly to worry about that. You really shouldn’t be here before you’re 23.”

Me: *remains silent as the doctor explains the procedure again*

Ob/Gyn: “So, are you a student? What are you studying?”

Me: *not wanting to explain my complex writing major* “Oh, I’m majoring in English.”

Ob/Gyn: “So, what are you going to do with that other than be unemployed?” *chuckles* “Serve burgers?”

(The rest of my appointment was spent in stony silence while the doctor began an already nerve-wracking and intimate procedure.)

(I’ve been having awful pains for months now. I keep bringing it up to my family doctor, who passes it off as period cramps, as I’m a twenty-something female. I finally talk him into looking into it more, and he says it might be a kidney stone. I get referred to a urologist, all while being told, “I still think it’s period cramps.” I go in for my first visit after taking an x-ray.)

New Doctor: “Okay, so, where is your pain at?”

Me: “It’s mostly on my right side, a little bit higher up.”

(He looks at where I’m pointing, then at some paperwork. He shuffles through it a bit.)

New Doctor: “Okay, yeah. You have a kidney stone. It’s a good-sized one, too. We’re going to get some more images of it to confirm size and position before we talk about how to deal with it. Any questions about that?”

Me: “I… don’t think so. You’re sure it’s a kidney stone?”

New Doctor: “Unless you have a frozen pea in your urinary tract, it’s a stone.”

(I ended up having surgery, and passed it all with no problem. My family doctor never blamed pain on period cramps again.)

(I am a medical assistant and a large part of my day is getting patients into rooms and asking all of the questions before a doctor sees them. This scenario happens far too often:)

Me: “Okay, let’s go over your med list.”

Patient: “It’s all up to date.”

Me: “I know we do this at every visit, but we do it to make sure there aren’t duplicates or old meds that didn’t fall off.”

Patient: *with a heavy, dramatic sigh, dripping with disdainful attitude while slouching in their chair in protest* “I know it’s up to date, but okay.”

(I list one or two medications and they sigh dramatically and impatiently reply that, YES, it is one they’re taking. Some will use medical abbreviations such as PRN as if it’ll make me suddenly believe them. Then, this happens:)

Me: “[Medication]?”

Patient: *sitting up in full alert* “I’m not taking that anymore! Why is that on there?”

Me: “I couldn’t tell you, but I’ll discontinue it on your chart. When did you stop taking it?”

(The patient now usually gives some date preceding at least two appointments in our clinic, and usually because the patient decided to stop taking it or an outside provider advised the change, not something we would know unless they tell us. Usually, at this point the patient’s attention becomes devoted to correcting this grave error as if we are just randomly inserting old medications for grins and giggles. I’ve only ever had one acknowledge that his attitude should probably change regarding his contributions to the accuracy of his medical records.)

(I went to a doctor appointment, and during that appointment they were suppose to give me a tetanus shot. They gave me the wrong shot. So I had to go back into the doctor later to get the tetanus shot I was suppose to get the first time. When I went back in, I just got the shot, then left; no other service was provided. I then get a bill for the second visit, and this exchange happens when I call their billing department.)

Me: “I am calling regarding a bill I got. I don’t think I should be charged for this appointment because the only reason I had to come in was because of an error by the nurse.”

Billing: “I show here you had an appointment on [first date] and you paid your copay; is that correct?”

Me: “Yes.”

Billing: “Then I show you had a follow up appointment on [second date], and you did not pay your copay. That is why we are billing you.”

Me: “That’s why I’m calling. The appointment on the [second date] was only required because your nurse made a mistake on the [first date]. If she had not made a mistake, I wouldn’t have come in for that appointment.”

Billing: “I understand, sir, but since you came in for the second appointment, then we need to bill you for that appointment. Since your insurance covered everything but the copay, you have to pay that copay.”

Me: “Let me explain again. On the first appointment, your nurse made a mistake. She gave me the wrong injection. I had to come in for the second appointment only because she made a mistake. If she had not made the mistake, I wouldn’t have come back in.”

Billing: “It doesn’t matter; you still have to pay.”

Me: *getting frustrated now* “Okay, let me ask you this another way. After your nurse made a mistake the first time, I could have gone to a lawyer, or filed a complaint against your practice. Also, I could have filed a complaint with my insurance provider, since you have actually billed them twice for getting the same injection. I did none of those things. So your choice is to now credit my account for the copay, or my next call will be to the medical practice board, and then my insurance company.”

Billing: “One moment, please.” *puts me on hold for about five minutes then comes back* “I’ve talked to the doctor. We are going to waive that copay, but we will not do it again for any further visits.”

(After that call I found a new doctor. No surprise, his practice went out of business a few months later. I know people complain how everyone is lawsuit-happy nowadays. You’d think if you had a patient who wasn’t interested in going the legal route but just didn’t want to be charged for their mistake they would happily oblige. I guess not.)

(I’m 22 years old, female, and reasonably healthy for my age while living away at university. When I’m home at my parents for Christmas, I suddenly get a sharp pain in the centre of my chest, radiating out to the centre of my right rib cage. It’s not too severe at first, but I cannot walk straight and end up laying on the floor for two hours.)

Mom: *sitting on my bed, trying to keep me calm, talking to the out-of-hours telephone service, as well* “This pain has never happened before; I’m not really sure what to do here.”

Phone Responder: “All right, there’s not much we can do, unfortunately; judging by your description it could be a diaphragm spasm or a fructose allergy causing the tightness. You can give her pain relief, but all we can recommend is to call your GP in the morning.”

Mom: “All right, thank you.”

(Thankfully, the pain passes in about three hours, so we figure it’s a one-time thing and continue our lives. I get more pains, like this one and worse, about two or three times a year until I’m 24, where I finally go to my GP after a particularly bad “attack” where I end up vomiting from the pain.)

Me: *describes the symptoms in detail* “I was speaking to a family friend who’s had gallstones and says she had the same pains. Could it be that?”

Doctor: “Hmm, I doubt it; you’re simply too young and too healthy for it. It’s probably acid reflux. Try some [Known Heartburn Brand] for a while and see how you get on with that.”

(I leave and do as he asks, and for a while it seems to work… until this year at the age of 25. I have a pain so bad I begin violently vomiting, begging my mom to call an ambulance because I’m convinced something inside me has ruptured because of the severity of the pain. She does, and thankfully they arrive within minutes. I’m unable to talk because of the pain, so my mom is the one having to describe everything.)

Mom: *helping me explain the pain and pointing where it is on her own body, since I’m curled up into a ball on the bathroom floor* “She’s had these pains before, but never this bad. We don’t like to bother emergency services unless it’s severe.”

Paramedic: “We’ll try paracetamol and [heartburn medicine] first to see if that helps. Is that okay?”

(I nod, and the paramedics do as they promised, but after 20 minutes the pain is still worsening and I’m not able to think on anything else anymore. I can’t breathe, I feel like I’m dying or I’m going to pass out, and it’s overall a terrifying experience.)

Paramedic: “All right, since that’s not helping we’re going to give her some gas and air until we can move her over to the bed and check her over, okay?”

Mom: “That’s fine; she’s definitely not allergic to anything, so she can have whatever is needed.”

(Thankfully, the gas and air dulls the pain enough for me to get off the bathroom floor onto my bed, but it’s still severe and I’m shivering from the intensity. The paramedics do all their checks, pressing on the area with the pain, which causes me to cry again.)

Paramedic: “I think she’s got something wrong with her gallbladder. It’s unusual for her age, but it’s the only explanation for this pain and the area of it. I think it would be wise for her to go to hospital to check for sludge stuck in there or stones.”

(My mom agreed, but I insisted that she stay home so she didn’t have to see me in pain anymore. Once I was in the ambulance, I was also given morphine and some anti-vomiting medicine, as I was still being sick. At the hospital, the pain was starting to fade and eventually the emergency room nurse discharged me with the diagnosis of stress from just finishing university. I was tired, delirious, and fed up at this point, so even though I tried to argue, I didn’t have the strength and I left. I went back to my GP a few weeks later, and with a note from the ambulance team included in my file with their suspicions, and my mom not letting me leave without an answer, I was booked in for an ultrasound and a blood test. The ultrasound revealed I had some of the biggest gallstones the staff had ever seen in someone of my age, and I’m now waiting on surgery to remove my entire gallbladder. Just because someone doesn’t match the “average” symptom group doesn’t mean it’s absolutely not that illness, and if I had been listened to in the first place, I wouldn’t be losing my gallbladder!)