blogs.telegraph.co.uk I've taken a day to think about this subject and it is with regret that I feel I should share my experience.
No matter how good you feel about yourself, that's not how others will see you.
I've always been confident, proud, strong and a person who gives others reassurance and understanding. But with the advance of age, I no longer give off my former vitality. When I'm sitting, I can hold a good conversation—it's only when I move that I let myself down.
The treatment I received from the doctor yesterday has left me feeling worthless. I'll tell you exactly what occurred (from my point of view) and you can be the judge.
When I entered Room 4 of the surgery, the doctor looked up and asked what seemed to be the trouble. I explained and she asked to examine me on the table. But I couldn't raise my leg. She kept repeating that I should get up. After more attempts of trying to lift the leg in question with both hands, I told her I couldn't. She waited. I suggested she move the stool to the other end of the table, but she told me it was fixed. After further failed attempts, she lifted my leg.
I almost sobbed with relief.
No matter how good you feel about yourself, that's not how others will see you.
I've always been confident, proud, strong and a person who gives others reassurance and understanding. But with the advance of age, I no longer give off my former vitality. When I'm sitting, I can hold a good conversation—it's only when I move that I let myself down.
The treatment I received from the doctor yesterday has left me feeling worthless. I'll tell you exactly what occurred (from my point of view) and you can be the judge.
When I entered Room 4 of the surgery, the doctor looked up and asked what seemed to be the trouble. I explained and she asked to examine me on the table. But I couldn't raise my leg. She kept repeating that I should get up. After more attempts of trying to lift the leg in question with both hands, I told her I couldn't. She waited. I suggested she move the stool to the other end of the table, but she told me it was fixed. After further failed attempts, she lifted my leg.
I almost sobbed with relief.
www.telegraph.co.uk After the examination, she confirmed my suspicion and dismissed the problem as of no consequence. She asked me if it was hurting. I said no, so she raised her eyebrows and told me to keep using the cream. When I told her I'd run out, she made no response but sat typing at her keyboard. I also requested a repeat of antiseptic cream and support stockings. After a bit of chatting about the possible outcome when the ointment had done it's job, she handed me a prescription for two items, not three, and told me to buy antiseptic cream over the counter. No response came from my admission of being short of money.
At the close of our discussion, I shuffled to the door, whereupon she noted my difficulty in walking. My pain nearly brought tears to my eyes, but her words were so cold.
As a person who is accustomed to the respect or admiration of those around me, the shock of losing the aforementioned regard wounds me.
The doctor looked tired, disinterested and uncaring. She probably saw me as unimportant and demanding. Perhaps if I had wealth, or a solid background of any worth like a renown writer or a famous celebrity, I'd receive better care. But would I be buying the attention if that was the case?
In the UK, the National Health Service was set up to provide health care from the cradle to the grave. But is this really happening today?
Doctors are all people, with strengths and weaknesses just like the rest of us. Another doctor might have handled the situation better. Staff working for the Nation Health are overworked, nurses are underpaid and the system is undergoing changes. However, doctors are among the most highly paid professionals in the country.
I don't think I'm unique. A similar loss of dignity must happen to most people over the age of 70.
Shame on society for treating mature people this way.
At the close of our discussion, I shuffled to the door, whereupon she noted my difficulty in walking. My pain nearly brought tears to my eyes, but her words were so cold.
As a person who is accustomed to the respect or admiration of those around me, the shock of losing the aforementioned regard wounds me.
The doctor looked tired, disinterested and uncaring. She probably saw me as unimportant and demanding. Perhaps if I had wealth, or a solid background of any worth like a renown writer or a famous celebrity, I'd receive better care. But would I be buying the attention if that was the case?
In the UK, the National Health Service was set up to provide health care from the cradle to the grave. But is this really happening today?
Doctors are all people, with strengths and weaknesses just like the rest of us. Another doctor might have handled the situation better. Staff working for the Nation Health are overworked, nurses are underpaid and the system is undergoing changes. However, doctors are among the most highly paid professionals in the country.
I don't think I'm unique. A similar loss of dignity must happen to most people over the age of 70.
Shame on society for treating mature people this way.
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