It’s a year to the day since I went to the doctor to get back on track with addressing my hypothyroidism. I’ve struggled with thyroid issues most of my life and I’ve never been good at treating and managing it- partly due to naivety of what it all meant and the other part possibly due to being in denial of being on medication for life. So when I booked an appointment with my GP last year seeking help I was hoping I would be met with a gracious and understanding aid- far from it. I wrote about my experience at the time and kept this note on my phone- the last two words even more poignant now in the wake of Caroline Flack’s death and much subsequent positivity pleas on social media.
26/02/19
“I saw my GP the other day and she spared me two and a half minutes of her time. A whole 150 seconds. I was her first appointment of the day. She snapped at me that we were “going round in circles”, that I needed to take my medication, then she handed me a prescription, got off her chair, opened her door and ushered me out.
I walked out of that room with tears in my eyes and a slip of paper that apparently held the longing answers to my health- but also the answers a human being couldn’t be bothered to talk me through. And yes she might have been totally right but I wasn’t ready for the tough love approach at 8am.
It might not sound like a big deal to some reading this and rather that I’m making a mountain out of a molehill but one person’s hill is another’s Everest. And booking that doctors appointment was a bit of an Everest step for me.
To be swatted away like I was some pesky fly made me feel about two feet tall (lol what’s new). I had been feeling so low, tired and frustrated for months and to literally be ushered out of the one place I should have been guaranteed to feel safe and that I could ask for help was so upsetting. I couldn’t believe I got called in at 8.04am and by the time I checked my phone out on the street while working to work it was 8.07. I was so shocked, affronted, upset, that I... yep... burst into tears (classic Abi) in the middle of the street.
I frantically text my sister and boyfriend through blurry eyes to see if one would be up to calm me down. I then sat at my desk and hopelessly tried to pretend I was okay; that I could read, write, proof read, whatever else that day, even though I just wanted to burrow into my duvet and sleep for hours. I cracked on my lunch break and sobbed for a full hour into my boyfriends shoulder (bless he doesn’t half put up with some stuff) before heading back to work to finish my shift and then off to Boots to hand in my wretched prescription.
Perhaps the lesson I learned out of this situation was that even though you might know best, be kind- always. You just never know exactly how that person is feeling inside. Even if you can only offer two and a half minutes of your time, be kind.”
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