RaziWorld

The Life and Times of one Dark Divah

9/20/07

Moron (the doctor’s visit)

Yes I know, it’s a little word play, it should read More On, but I think Moron is more the word that fits him best.

So here’s how it went.

I walked in the office, he walked through the waiting room, I looked at him, and he glanced in my direction and I KNEW this wasn’t going to go well.

He walks into the exam room… and why if he had no intentions of examining me I was put in an exam room is beyond me. That is like putting a child in front of chocolate and then telling them they can’t eat it, but whatever… I waited in the exam room with my DH.

The doctor walks in, has my paperwork in his hand and already knows why I’m there because I saw the words reduction “breast” and Panniculectomy on the info sheet he had with him.  I’m sort of a hawk eye in situations like that, I absorb everything. I can even describe the layout of the exam room that I was in for a total of ten minutes.

He introduced himself, I shook his hand, and then he started babbling, most of which incoherent double talk; essentially trying to talk me out of the surgery. When he got to “but you do know that panniculectomy is merely functional and not cosmetic?”
 I answered with a resounding “Yes, panniculectomy is the excision of redundant fat and skin without the placation of the underlying musculature that may or may not include keeping the umbilicus in tact depending on the size and weight and stretching of the umbilical stem.”

Whassamaddadoketer? Cat got your tongue?


I take it he doesn’t have many people come into his office that know the terminology let alone using it properly. Asking me what my profession was; was evidence that I was right and then dismissing the conversation all together because the wittle stay at home mommy has a brain wasn’t very becoming. It matters not what it is I do for a living, it matters that I have done my homework on the surgeries doesn’t it?


Then on to the breasts; do I have symptoms?
Uhhh hello? My FAMILY DOCTOR, which means my GENERAL PRACTIONER, referred me to YOUR OFFICE for breast reduction and panniculectomy. I didn’t call you up and go for a consult based on looking pretty, I was referred to your office by my family physician THROUGH OHIP; that means I want OHIP to cover the surgery genius. In order for that to happen there must be, by their definitions, significant symptomology and there must be a functional aspect of the surgery coupled WITH the cosmetic… by the way the word you were looking for is ‘esthetic’ benefits that will be a result.

That means, brainiac, that you EXAMINE me, write down your findings, take pictures and send them in a little package for OHIP to consider and THEY decide if I get the surgery, not you. Based solely on the fact that I reside in a bra on a 24/7 basis and have now for the better part of the last year is all the symptomology I need for OHIP, based on the fact that the fullest part of my breasts are 12-14 inches BIGGER than my bra band says that I have enough symptomology to be approved for coverage, couple that with sporadic, but growing ever closer in frequency neck and shoulder spasms and permanent shoulder indentation as well as mid to upper back stress from constant weight bearing and I’m fairly confident that I meet the criteria set out to have the surgery covered.

Saying something as stupid as, “You’ve always been large breasted, you should be used to it,” isn’t going to ease my physical pain now is it? It’s also going to add to the insult that is STRICTLY MALE thinking.  These two mountains in the middle of my chest are quite the sight to see, they look pretty fucking good when they are sitting up high in the double wired, double strength device that captures them, but take that device off and there’s a whole other party happening behind the doors.
 Making me bend over to bring your eyes back to my face and off my breasts was not only and insult it was hurtful and unprofessional and I WILL be reporting you for it.

So let’s move on shall we?

I told you at the onset of the appointment that I did my homework, you trying to tell me about necrosis was rather funny. You didn’t say, there is potential for cell death, fat and skin death and heaven forbid you use the “proper” terminology with a little housewife sitting in your office, no, you say, “well your nipples WILL turn black.” You didn’t say that there is a potential for fat necrosis and you also didn’t say that the incidence of such is less than ten percent, and you didn’t tell me that I would have to have a free nipple graft and why and why didn’t you? BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T EXAMINE ME!

Let’s go back to the panniculectomy for a minute…

So we’ve established that I know what I am talking about, that I would not be in the office if this was something I could see myself living with. We’ve established that I am intelligent and that I have done my homework. You then add insult to injury and say, “You might get lucky and someone at OHIP might be having a good day and check the yes box on the form.”

EXCUSE FUCKING ME?  ( No, I didn’t say it, but he could tell by my look.. I do this little head cock thing when I am evaluating whether or not the punch in the face is worth the effort.)

Then, (here comes the sales pitch) you say, “So were you looking at having the total package?”

My first thought was ‘right now I’m looking at effective ways to castrate you, but I can’t figure out how to get away with it,’

But I answer with a “No I’m looking at having an OHIP covered breast reduction and panniculectomy.”

Then one final insult before I walked out of his office, “Well then come back in a year when you are at IDEAL body weight.”

I walked out of the office and I am proud that I walked out without hitting him, but it was hard.

The part of the conversation I omitted was that I was told under no certain terms that if I had lost all my weight via gastric bypass or banding that he would have no problem doing the surgery and having it covered but because I lost it on my own I can’t? Apparently he’s a psychic and can evaluate what I need based on seeing me in my clothing, clothing I might add that includes the use of support garments. I've nothing against losing weight via surgical intervention, but when you are discredited for being able to do it on your own there is something very messed up in the system. It's like MY weight loss isn't REAL weight loss and doesn't count because I didn't have bypass surgery or that MY life style changes aren't permanent life style changes because I didn't need a doctor to restrict how much I can put into my stomach. It's an insult to have one think that will power is something that needs to be surgically controlled and ignoramouses like this doctor have no idea that people who resort to bypass have tried everything and nothing worked for them and undergoing the surgery is a LAST RESORT, not the first one.
So I was and am a two fold pissed off on that point. Once for me and once for everyone out there who DID have bypass or banding because it was in very essence life or death for them.

I want to know, whose IDEAL body weight I have to be at? Mine or theirs?  My Ideal body weight is not that far out of reach, for that matter, I am pretty damned good where I am at.  My thighs are not huge, and they are toned, they show some of the effects of age and child bearing, but are not riddled with cellulite or varicose veins. I have a size 7 shoe and essentially no fat on my ankles. I wear a size 5 ring on my ring finger, left hand, and a 5.5 on the right and have no fat on my wrists. All of what makes me look “fat” is in my middle, BREASTS AND BELLY and I know that no matter what surgery is done, that I will ALWAYS have hips and ass; That was/is and shall ever be my inheritance.

Reduce my breasts and rid me of the pannus that IS NOT going to go away no matter how much I exercise or diet or try to starve myself thin and I am going to be at least 22lbs lighter and look 50lbs lighter.

If he had bothered to ask me, I would have told him that I have perfect blood pressure, perfect oxygen saturation, perfect heart rate, perfect cholesterol levels and that I do not have diabetes or any other co-morbity associated with being over weight. If hed bothered to ask I would have told him that all of these things were checked at the end of April when I was admitted to the EMERGENCY ROOM in the hospital he works at and that the diagnoses at the visit was nerve compression in the shoulder caused by... YOU GUESSED IT, the weight of my breasts and my bra strap cutting into my shoulders!

So I looked up the definition of IDEAL in the dictionary and found this little gem;

 IDEAL: existing only in the imagination; not real or actual: Nature is real; beauty is ideal.

So in essence this doctor has said to me that I am not pretty enough to be pretty and I should come back in a year after I try to kill myself “thin” to fit into his vision of what I should be and abandon MY vision of what I am.

Again…

WHAT AN ASSHOLE!

 

 

 

Comments (4)

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About the Author
DarkDivah (RaziCichlid)What to say? What to say?
I've been kicking around Delphi since  ohhh about 1999.
I'm an aspiring author and all around nut-job.
I'm a Pagan and my path is wherever my feet happen to take me.
I'm just a little light, just a little dark and a whole lot opinionated.
I'm a free thinker and have no idea whether or not anything I say will be relevant to anyone other than me, but I'm going to say it anyhow.
You can steal my sunshine, but you can't have my thunder.
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