I am glad that I did not become a doctor. Some of them think that they are god because they have “Dr.” in front of their name and they have thriving businesses. Most of them are men – and the reason that they went into the medical profession is because it can make them a lot of money.
Apologies to the doctors that do actually want to heal and help those in need, but still, there aren’t too many that are able to do that, and so they resort to what they have learned and use cookie cutter approaches to most every patient, because they really can’t take the time and make the effort to really find out what would be best for each individual. Too much disease and disorders without real fixes.
If I had become a doctor, I might have been lured away from wanting to heal and instead start to look at patients as numbers rather than individuals too, because of bills to pay, cars and houses to maintain, and the pumping up of my ego because I wear a white coat and a little name plate with “Dr.” on it.
At the end of the day, I might feel bad, or not. Did I make a difference? Did I give the most that I could, and if there is something else to learn or do, or someone else that I could help, would I?
It may become too much to ask, that caring, that commitment. Easier to just lose a patient or write out a prescription, just to try something that could either make the person better, the same, or worse.
I wonder how many of these medical professionals with degrees are willing to ask others for help, thereby admitting that they do not know what to do?
I personally have had some excellent caring doctors, the best ones were women. However, in Emma’s case, the worse one was the first that she saw – a young woman doctor who had very little compassion and an attitude that she knew everything without inquiring into Emma’s specifics – and then misdiagnosed her as schizophrenic, a tag that has followed and determined the drugs and treatments for Emma, resulting in a stabilizing effect, and then a downward spiral into depression, lethargy, and the inability to feel hope.
We are currently looking for another psychiatrist who is willing to determine Emma’s disorder – and since her symptoms are so unusual, be willing to figure out the best procedure(s) for her. [note: see update on getting off damn prescription drugs.]
Wouldn’t it be a wonderful world if there were more doctors and less patients so that each person that walked through their clinic doors actually mattered to them and was worth paying attention to? That would actually mean that patients actually got cured and off the appointment lists in order to accommodate new patients. Instead, the current model is to treat symptoms, not causes, and keep on putting out the subsequent fires that WILL flare up, continuously.
Wouldn’t it be a wonderful world if more attention and research were done toward finding the cause of disease/disorders and get it fixed and repaired rather than relying on expensive and often ineffective drugs for symptoms?