Doctors are expected to conduct themselves with civility and professionalism. However, the sad reality is that some of them have absolutely no idea how to treat their patients with respect. Just take the following MDs for example—their questionable behaviors ended up leaving helpless people in truly awkward positions:
1. A Little Too Late
My best friend visited the doctor due to numbness spreading from her lower legs to her shoulders on her left side. She queried if it might be heart-related, but the doctor dismissed it as a simple case of a pinched nerve—without examining her heart rate, blood pressure, or other vital signs. She entered his office, was informed it was a pinched nerve, and left…then a heartrending event unfolded.
She tragically died in her sleep due to a blocked artery in her leg. She had been constantly updating people on Facebook, tracking each developing symptom until her final sleep. What's truly terrible? Most of the commenters defended the doctor's actions.
2. Pay-To-Play
I had an appointment for my annual no-charge check-up at the doctor's office. The doctor was getting ready to inspect my ears, nose, and throat when I mentioned a problem with persistent nasal polyps. I wasn't trying to make a fuss—I just wanted him to be aware since the condition is chronic for me, and he was about to look into my nose anyway. BIG ERROR!
Suddenly, he halted the exam. He said that since I'd brought up a specific health issue, my visit was no longer "free". Instead, it was now categorized as a consultation for these nasal polyps, so I got slapped with a charge for the visit. I was so shocked that I ended my KP insurance subscription the very next day. When did health care turn into such a pay-per-view game?
I might just be venting, but the whole experience felt downright shady. On top of that, the temperature in the office was a distractingly hot 80 degrees. Not a major issue, but still discomforting.
3. Bunch Of Skeptics
One day, my colleague came into work looking very unwell. It was evident that he ran a high fever, had joint and muscle pains, and his skin had a yellowish tint. We all urged him to see a doctor, noticing his health seemed severely deteriorated. He shared his suspicion of having malaria. Despite seeking medical advice from two physicians, and even visiting the ER, they dismissed his claim, stating malaria isn’t prevalent in Australia.
They suggested it might be just the flu or another kind of viral infection. It’s true – we don't typically get malaria cases here. But what they didn't realize was that my coworker had previously lived and worked in Africa for several years and had contracted malaria five times. He was not only familiar with the symptoms but was also at an increased risk of redeveloping it, regardless of his recent absence from Africa.
Ultimately, he had to revisit the ER and adamantly request a malaria test, which confirmed his health status. They were surprised, while he responded, "That's what I've been saying for the past two days".
4. Test Subject
When I was 15, I visited my local community health center for my inaugural Pap smear. Living independently at a young age, I didn't have insurance, so I took advantage of the free women's health services this center offered. My doctor was an older gentleman, probably in his 60s.
As I was propped up on the table, feet resting in stirrups, he casually asked if I'd mind some interns watching the procedure. Before I even had a chance to respond, a group of seven medical students appeared, each of them taking their turn to examine me.
Their chatter about my body made me feel like I was invisible, but that's not even the worst part. The procedure became increasingly agonizing because the first student forgot to appropriately prepare the medical instrument with lubrication. This experience left me feeling used and humiliated, and for many years afterward, I completely avoided caring for my feminine health.
5. Ambiance Is Everything
My wife is challenged by various psychological disorders, the type often changes based on the current trends in the psychiatric field each week. There was this one time, during one particularly tough phase marked by dark thinking, that our family doctor honestly proposed she might benefit from using a mood lamp and focusing on positive thoughts. I'm serious—a mood lamp and positive thinking...
6. Three Strikes, You're Out
My hormones seemed pretty messed up. Even after downing over 300 ounces of water each day, I was still feeling parched. I'd head to bed with a large bottle of water then wake up during the night either needing to drink more or use the restroom. This pattern went on for months where I could only catch about 30 minutes of sleep at a stretch. Unfortunately, the three endocrinologists I saw were unhelpful.
One of them called me a drama queen, implying that I was just seeking attention. He even had the nerve to suggest I needed to lose weight. The next told me that my job stress was the problem and suggested switching to a job with less stress. The third one barely looked at me before telling me to stop using birth control, asking me to come back after eight weeks. She then left the room and that's all we discussed.
In an unexpected turn of events, I discovered I had a tumor on my adrenal gland. This was found during a CT scan I had to get because of a kidney stone. Turns out, it's actually stage 3 Adrenocortical Carcinoma.
7. Bad Timing
When my wife and I agreed on attempting to have a child, she made an appointment with her doctor to have her intrauterine device, or IUD, removed. She encountered an article suggesting a waiting period of several weeks after IUD removal before trying to get pregnant.
However, she was skeptical about this information (just to clarify, it turned out to be incorrect). Once her doctor completed the procedure, she brought up the question: "When should we begin our attempts to become pregnant?" The doctor humorously responded, "Well, ideally wait until you're back home."
8. Becoming A Zombie
When I was 15, my doctor changed my anti-depressant treatment to Lexapro. After taking it for about a month, I felt like I was just going through the motions, unable to sleep or eat and feeling very distant. At my next appointment, I let her know my concerns, adding that I'd like to stop the medication. I even mentioned that my therapist agreed that it wasn't beneficial for me. Her reaction was unexpectedly harsh.
She began criticizing me, going on about how I couldn't just avoid my issues and that discomfort isn't a reason to stop taking the meds. My mom and I simply left without retort. Fast forward a year or so, I was taken to the emergency room following a manic episode by my mom and sister. During triage, my mom left my sister with me to fetch my therapy resources and medication from the car.
While she was away, my anxiety quickly escalated. A security guard warned that he would use his taser if my behavior worsened. Upon my mom's return and the attending ER doctor's arrival, he merely chalked my state up to menstrual hormones and attention-seeking behavior. They then sedated me and I was made to lie on a stretcher in the hallway for 10 hours until the arrival of a social worker.
By this time, I was heavily medicated, so much so that I was unable to coherently respond to her questions. Her conclusion was that I was simply exhausted and in need of rest.
9. Well, That's Embarrassing
When I was 19, I visited a gynecologist for a routine exam. I was reasonably timid and a bit anxious. After the examination, the doctor began asking me the usual medical questions. Suddenly, she asked about the number of partners I had that year. Keep in mind, the total was three; however, I hadn't been keeping count and the query took me by surprise, leaving me speechless for a moment.
Before I knew it, the doctor looked at me, smiled, and teasingly labeled me an "active girl." I was mortified, to say the least. I attempted to mumble something to salvage my dignity, but it was already too far gone. It was simply too late.
10. Instant Life Change
At the outset of the pandemic, I found myself at an urgent care clinic due to a strange illness that wouldn't let up. Upon receiving my test results, the doctor and I had an unbelievable chat. She suddenly asked, "Who's in charge of your diabetes treatment?" Surprised, I responded with, "Wait, I have diabetes?" She disregarded me and persisted, "What's your prescribed medication? Why are you neglecting your diabetic condition?" I was startled—I wasn't even aware that I had diabetes.
"Could this be the reason for my extended illness? It's time for you to start valuing your health. Have you started insulin yet?" she inquired. At this point, I exclaimed, "Wait, are you diagnosing me with diabetes?!" She looked at me with a mixture of impatience and disbelief before stating, "Well, you're 30. Aging has its effects, and diabetes is one of them. It's not the end of the world. Diabetes typically takes about 30 years to significantly harm someone. That's not too shabby for a guy." After this, she excused herself and left the room.
Shortly afterwards, a nurse entered bearing a prescription and a request for a follow-up blood test. That was all. Thankfully, a few days later, I had the chance to discuss the outcome of the blood test with a different doctor who directed me to a diabetes clinic.
11. Medical Gaslighting
Just to give you a bit of background, I’m a 27-year-old plus size individual, and though I'm not enormously overweight, I definitely could afford to shed a few pounds. Roughly five years ago, I began experiencing what was later diagnosed as undetermined tachycardia, and was eventually directed to a cardiologist. I'd never met this doctor before, so our consultation was our first encounter, and it was anything but pleasant.
The moment he entered the room, he treated me with immediate disdain. His first words were not a friendly introduction nor a polite greeting, but instead he rudely asked if I'd considered gastric bypass surgery. His question left me reeling with shock, hurt, and anger. Predictably, he disregarded my concerns, treating them—and me—with little serious attention. And you know what’s worse?
My tachycardia incidents began happening more often and each episode felt worse than the last. This was despite my consistent efforts to lose weight and exercise daily. But according to this cardiologist, my weight was the root of all issues. What's interesting though is that when I had first experienced these tachycardia episodes, an ER physician attributed them to acid reflux, a starkly different cause.
The frightening reality was that my heart rate was so escalated and constant that I could have gone into cardiac arrest. I found this absolutely mind-boggling. When I shared my experiences with my new primary care doctor a week later, he was visibly upset. It's astonishing and disheartening how frequently patients’ concerns are invalidated by the very doctors they turn to for help.
12. Second Opinion
A handful of years back, I noticed a lump on my head and decided to consult with a doctor who specializes in skin cancer. This expert diagnosed me with melanoma and immediately recommended that I have a large portion of my scalp surgically removed, all without taking a biopsy first.
I was totally shaken—particularly by his lack of non-catastrophic options. He told me to stop everything and ready myself for thi disfiguring surgery. I was just a teenager then, around 19, with a head full of long locks. Additionally, he warned me that I might have to start using a wig because my hair possibly wouldn't grow back.
His words left me terrified and I returned home, breaking into sobs. However, my dad decided to take me to his own doctor. That physician decided to run a biopsy first. As it turned out, the lump was nothing serious, just a typical skin growth. She swiftly removed it on the spot. What a relief it was.
13. Jumping To Conclusions
I recently visited a highly recommended gynecologist for the first time, as I was worried about a decrease in my sexual drive, which wasn't normal for my age of 25. However, her response to my worries left me in shock. She began handing over informational pamphlets about women's shelters and lecturing me as if I was a victim, implying domestic abuse. I found this befuddling because she seemed to hastily jump to the conclusion that I was a victim of abuse – an idea she held onto no matter what I said.
I attempted to clarify that my husband was definitely not the problem. Quite the contrary, he was considerate and skillful in our intimate relations. I explained that I was certain the cause was physical. Still, it felt like talking to a wall. She persistently refused to accept that it could be a health issue, despite my vivid and somewhat crude explanations of why I believed this to be the case. I decided not to follow-up with her because of this experience.
She repeatedly contacted me to "follow up"—while I understand her concern might be valid for some women, in my case it was unwarranted. There were no warning signs... not even a hint...of abuse in my situation. The whole thing felt bizarre to me.
14. I Don't Make The Prices
Back then, I worked a job where I was standing for over 40 hours a week, and ended up with a nasty ingrown toenail. I tried to handle it on my own and toughen it out when that didn’t work, but when my toe turned purple, I had no choice but to give in and see a doctor. Living in the US without health insurance means that a visit to the podiatrist set me back a hefty $1,300, a lot for a teenager earning just a bit more than minimum wage.
Even after explaining my situation, the doctor scolded me, saying, "It's odd seeing a teenage girl with a toe issue this bad. Usually it’s my male patients who neglect their health to this degree." I always took my health seriously, but scrimping for months to afford treatment made me see red.
15. Biological Clock
I was only 32 when I got pregnant with my child. I had a really tough pregnancy. I had frequent episodes of intense vomiting, leaving me dehydrated to the point that I ended up in the hospital numerous times to get IV fluids. To complicate things further, I developed gestational diabetes and needed insulin injections, but turns out, my body was reacting badly to the insulin. Because of this, I went into premature labor, leading to the immediate halt of the insulin injections.
Also, I developed several fibroids, which made it necessary to have my baby through a C-section at 38 weeks. From quite early on in my pregnancy, I repeatedly expressed to my obstetrician my decision to have no more children and I wanted a hysterectomy. However, my doctor encouraged me not to go that route, as I may want more children in the future. Even after my pregnancy, for several years, they simply kept monitoring my fibroids.
Fast forward 20 years and it's now too late for a simple solution. The fibroids have grown too large to have a laparoscopic hysterectomy. Instead, I would need an open abdomen surgery, which comes with higher risks and a lengthy recovery period. I'm also at an increased risk of blood clots now, meaning I have to take blood thinners for the foreseeable future. Looking back, it's clear that if they had just listened to me and respected my wishes about my body when I first brought it up, I would be in a much better place today.
16. Lost In Translation
Once upon a time, I had an encounter with a doctor from Nigeria who had quite a strong accent. Understanding him was a challenge. I tried to convey my belief that I had fractured my ribs—the intense pain and difficulty in breathing were unbearably distressing. Simply expressing this struggle to him was a painful ordeal.
He prodded the pained area, muttering an unintelligible comment. Confused, I asked him, "What did you say"? He repeated his action, uttering another incomprehensible remark.
Again, with a puzzled look, I asked him, "I'm sorry, can you repeat that"? This is when he took hold of my possibly broken ribs and, applying an aggressive force, yelled furiously, "Does this hurt?" My shocked response was, "Of course it does. Didn't I just tell you that I suspect they're broken?".
In reaction, he threw his hands up in frustration, gave me a referral for an X-ray the following day, and abruptly left the room. He appeared quite irritated, as if I was the one who was causing the trouble.
17. Rate My Doctor
After my carpal tunnel surgery, the doctor tasked me with conducting a motor skills test. This consisted of picking up my phone and opening the camera app. What he did next took me by surprise. Out of the blue, he unveiled a QR code and requested that I leave him a review on Google and TripAdvisor. It was his first time performing this type of surgery and he was keen for feedback.
Just to clarify, I'm in the UK, and this was a private surgery experience. What occurred wouldn't typically happen in an NHS hospital, where patient surveys seem to be the norm. There may be a "Rate my Doctor" type platform too. In the end, I casually took a snapshot of the QR code and decided to write the review later, at my leisure. If I require surgery on my elbow, I will undoubtedly request him again.
The doctor proved to be proficient at his job, and I appreciated his transparency. While being operated on, he walked me through every step of the process, clearly explaining things like tendons and nerves.
18. Quack Doctor
I paid a visit to a chiropractor due to my migraines. One of the first questions he threw my way was about my vaccination status. I told him I was vaccinated, and he gave a sigh. He then proceeded to tell me that this was the reason for my ill-health. According to him, vaccines are risky and the only reason he got his children vaccinated was to avoid homeschooling them. Sounds logical, doesn't it?
19. Waste Of Time
While I was standing in the hallway, just outside the room, I overheard the doctor engaging in a loud conversation about football with someone for more than 15 minutes. After this, he came into the room and announced that he had no time to discuss my health issues. Instead, he offered to set up an appointment with a specialist for me. Then, without wasting any time, he just up and left. I was in the room for less than three minutes.
Immediately after this encounter, I filed a complaint about him to his medical group and asked my insurance company to change my doctor. I'm not certain about what happened to him, but if the way he treated me is a regular thing for him, I hope he's been let go.
20. Way Off Topic
During my teenage years, I visited a doctor due to a painful throat. My symptoms were concerning enough to make me believe that I might have a sore throat. Interestingly, during the throat examination, the doctor started to ask me some peculiar questions. An example would be whether my menstrual cycles were regular or not. The relevance of that question to my sore throat was unclear to me, but I answered anyway, saying, "Yes, I experience one each month, typically around every 24 days."
When the term "average" came up in my response, he interpreted it to mean my menstrual cycles were irregular. He then shocked me with an unexpected statement: "You will never be able to conceive." At that moment, I wanted to reply sarcastically, "Okay, doc, now that you've diagnosed me with an unrelated issue, are you planning to check my rear for strep throat?"
21. Fight Response
During my initial pregnancy phase, I managed to put on three pounds (originally, I weighed 110 pounds before pregnancy). In the prenatal clinic, the process is such that you meet all the doctors to ensure someone familiar is always available when you go into delivery, even if your primary doctor is not available. The midwife I met suggested that any additional weight gain could risk the health of both me and my baby for life. Jump ahead to me experiencing labor, and guess who was on call?
Indeed, it was the very same midwife. She came in for my examination with a comment "Wow, you look rather swollen, how much weight have you amassed, exactly?" My husband had to restrain me to stop me from lashing out at her after I ordered her out of my room, leaving the nurse present with us pale with astonishment.
22. Doctor's Orders
A few years back, I changed physicians. For a long time, I've had a standing prescription for Adderall following my ADHD diagnosis. As we conversed about my dosage, my doctor expressed worry about the 30 mg I take daily. I informed him that the regular usage was intended since I require it almost all the time. His response was encouraging mini breaks from my medication.
I mentioned that I skip it on days it's not an absolute necessity. However, as a full-time student, my well-being matters, particularly with regard to regaining tolerance post these short breaks. In addition, the doctor I had previously decided after numerous appointments that it wasn't beneficial for me to stop taking it for extended periods as it leads to a rapid weight loss due to loss of appetite.
In case I skip it for a few days, my appetite gets out of whack for the next several days. It gets hard having to force myself to eat just so I won't lose significant weight. As someone already very lean, this poses a significant issue. There was a sudden outburst from his end: "If you can't follow my dosing instructions, then you shouldn't continue taking this medication." I was dumbfounded and didn't know how to reply.
The situation felt all too familiar due to the raised voices, reminding me of my dad's yelling fits.
23. Don't Try Me
A couple of years back, my wife fell sick due to an infection, which turned into sepsis later on. Luckily, we were able to catch it in its early stage and she successfully recovered. Amidst this terrifying situation, her surgeon requested her medical records which were yet to be received from her primary care doctor's office. So, I decided to take it up myself and rang up her doctor's office to pick up her records.
I tried to explain, "I think there has been some misunderstanding here. I'm not the patient". However, they responded by insisting that I had to schedule an appointment just to collect her documents. "Wait, you're saying I need to schedule a full-fledged appointment, which would be billed to my insurance and I'd have to pay a co-pay, despite the fact there's no need for an examination or consultation?"
The secretary on the other side confirmed this in a stern, impassive voice. I retorted, "So what you're saying sounds suspiciously like extortion and potential insurance fraud. I'll come myself to collect the records without an appointment. If there's any issue, I won't hesitate to contact the Attorney General". I added, "And by the way, I couldn't help but notice something striking about your staff. It seems you only hire women, specifically white women. I find that interesting. Perhaps state authorities might find it interesting too".
Finally, her records were handed over to me within five minutes.
24. Money Is The Motive
This happened not to me, but to my sister. Our family doctor gave her a piece of advice, saying, "Avoid visiting walk-in clinics, even if means waiting for an appointment with me. And don't worry, I won't be making any profit from your prescription." Once, my sister went to see him because she was having trouble breathing (she gets bronchitis from time to time), but shockingly, our doctor didn't even check her lungs. He accused her of lying, claiming she was trying to get a medical excuse to miss school.
In our house, you could hear my sister's wheezing throughout the room. Only when my sister said she would go to urgent care, seeing as he was declining to treat her, did the doctor relent. What he said was enough to make our blood boil: "Oh. You genuinely do have bronchitis." But he didn't apologize. Given the scarcity of family doctors in our area, we've been unable to change healthcare providers, rather frustratingly.
25. Lucky To Be Alive
Back in 2017, I had to undergo a significant surgery to fix damage in my right shoulder and bicep. My bicep had to be reattached, the tear in my rotator cuff mended, and two labrum tears dealt with. The operation took about 3.5 hours and happened on a Wednesday. By Friday, something felt off within me, which made me rush to the emergency room (ER). As my right arm was entirely immobilized, with a support pillow, my dad drove me there.
Upon reaching the ER, I was struggling to breathe normally. I was quickly taken in and found that my oxygen levels were falling to around 89/90, so I was put on supplementary oxygen. They ran a bunch of tests: CT scans, a series of blood tests, and some other procedures. Despite all these, they struggled to identify what was wrong. By this time, I was totally exhausted, barely able to understand things around me, and still having difficulty breathing. The heart doctor even asked if I was under severe pain from the operation or if I suffer from panic attacks.
He seemed not to take my condition seriously and began to treat me as if I were just imagining things. Even when my oxygen levels wouldn't get past 90 without a mask on, he was ready to send me home. Luckily, a doctor from internal medicine insisted that I should be admitted as they didn't know what was wrong but recognized I wasn't well. After spending seven whole hours in the ER, I ended up being moved to a room in the main hospital.
The next morning, an echocardiogram was finally done. The technician conducting the test gave an unexpected reaction, then decided to make a hasty phone call. As it turns out, I had pericarditis. This condition arises when fluid leaks around the heart, causing inflammation. On my first day as an admitted patient, I felt a whole lot better and got discharged. I was put on medication and antibiotics for four months. Though, the first three weeks post-discharge, I was notably weak.
If they had decided to send me home that day, I might not have survived.
26. The Foot Fiasco
My husband hurt his feet on the job, with one foot ending up in a boot for a bit. His mobility was pretty limited. During his check-up, his doctor stated that there was no need for the boot anymore, calling it "excessive." He also mentioned that my hubby could resume work the following day. When my husband expressed continued pain in his foot, the doctor ordered a big toe X-ray only, assuring us that the fracture was healing properly.
I voiced my concern to the doctor that my husband wasn't quite ready to go back to work, seeing as he could hardly walk. Plus, the foot was so swollen, he struggled to put on his work boots. The doctor seemed to brush off my concerns, joking that I "just enjoyed having him at home," and sent him back to work. My husband soldiered through, but his foot swelled even more and made removing the boot a nightmare.
So, I had him visit another hospital the next day. This time, the orthopedic team took X-rays of his entire foot. Shockingly, they found two more fractures that the initial doctor missed. But, yeah, I supposed I just liked having my husband at home.
27. Monster, MD
A few years back, I assumed I had a simple sore throat, so naturally, I tried treating it myself and managing the pain. But it didn't get better as expected – in fact, I missed more than a week of work as it continuously worsened. Finally, I visited our company clinic where I met an ear, nose, and throat (ENT) specialist.
Typically, I don't tolerate disrespect, covert or overt, but I was too weak and hungry to argue. She then explained how my poor health habits had caused my tonsillitis, her diagnosis. Following the standard "you should drink more water" dialogue, she subtly started referring to certain intimate acts potentially causing throat diseases...
Her main goal, it seemed, was to make me confess about those activities. Her irritation grew as I continually declined to engage with her questioning. In sheer disbelief, I attempted to move the conversation along, inquiring about a potential hospital referral. And that's when she lost her temper.
She asked if a referral was the sole reason I had scheduled a consultation. In hindsight, I wish I'd put it all on the feedback form, but I was too shocked by the whole ordeal to react. I don't even recall leaving the clinic or going home. I promptly switched our insurance provider the following year. This memory still brings about feelings of anger and embarrassment, I feel violated by that beast.
28. Wrong Answer
When I was around 13 or 14, I experienced awful, acute hip pain, almost resembling a grinding sensation. I tolerated the pain for a while, but it became unbearable after some days. It was even distressing to walk and most of the time, I was bent over due to pain. Finally, my mom felt the urgency to take me to the emergency room. I spent roughly five hours there, undergoing various tests to determine what was causing my discomfort. That was when the drama began.
One of the nurses wasn't very empathetic and kept insisting that my appendix was the issue, despite the pain being on the opposite side. After a long wait and extensive testing, the male doctor conveyed that they hadn't found anything abnormal. He speculated that my pain was likely due to menstrual cramps. However, it wasn't even that time of the month for me. I could distinguish between this pain and regular cramps; they were starkly different.
My mom was frustrated with the doctor's conclusion and we left the hospital. Over the next few days, my pain gradually subsided and I never really discovered its source. However, I still suspect it might have been an ovarian cyst...
29. Fake Science
One of my family members started seeing dark patches on her skin, and her doctor diagnosed it as type 2 diabetes. Knowing how much she liked sweets, it could have made sense, but instead of giving her any medications, he suggested weird treatments like healing stones and other odd remedies.
We later learned that this doctor was soon leaving his current job, having invested a lot in a dubious medical company. Predictably, my relative didn't buy into his advice and sought a second opinion. This new doctor provided her with proper medical treatment and guess what? She didn't have diabetes at all.
This experience has stayed with me and has influenced my approach whenever I have to interact with any medical practitioner. It’s made me less trusting and encouraged me to do my own research about symptoms and health issues. Despite their vast education, doctors are humans too, and that doesn't make them immune to deficiencies or even wrongdoing, especially when there's greed involved.
30. Eye See How It Is...
Once upon a time, I paid a visit to an optometrist because of some trouble I was experiencing with my contact lenses. The doctor asked me if I slept with my lenses on. By this, I assumed she meant if I left them on overnight or for a long period. So, with total honesty, I said no as I didn't do that. Then she inquired whether I wore them while taking short naps, to which I admitted occasionally doing for about a half-hour.
The doctor's reaction ticked me off. She accused me of lying for saying I didn't sleep while wearing them because napping counted as sleeping. At 15, this felt very belittling to me, almost like an unnecessary "I got you" moment. My mom, who had driven me to the clinic, was visibly upset by this exchange. I apologized for the mix-up, completed the rest of my check-up, got the verdict, and we left.
When we left, I expressed to my mom that I didn't want to return to that optometrist. She reassured me that I wouldn't need to, and true to her word, I never did.
31. Shame On You
My doctor was going through a recent divorce and was noticeably upset. She'd also noticeably slimmed down after the divorce. I'd been her patient for quite a while, and during one of our visits, I expressed my desire to address the weight I’d gained after giving birth to my son. We discussed various weight loss strategies and she strongly pitched phentermine, the weight loss drug she'd apparently used.
After doing my own research and discussing it thoroughly with my husband, I informed her that I planned to stick with exercise and good nutrition. This conversation was repeated several times. However, at our final meeting, she bitterly commented: "I just hope your husband doesn't divorce you before you learn I'm right". That marked our last appointment.
I moved on promptly to find a new doctor and blocked her number as she persisted in reaching out to me.
32. Two-Minute Exam
I experienced "infected sweat glands" also known as Hidradenitis suppurativa (HS) in both my armpits and groin area. My primary physician referred me to a skin specialist who had experience with this particular condition. Disappointingly, he barely glanced at me without even conducting a physical examination. His first words surprised me—he bluntly commented, "You're overweight and need better hygiene. Come back in eight months after you improve your cleanliness and shed some pounds".
He then dismissed me and our encounter lasted less than two minutes. Naturally, my primary doctor was furious. For eight long months, I couldn't secure another appointment and during this time, the infection escalated drastically. It wreaked havoc on my skin and even seeped into my muscle tissue. The subsequent specialist I met did a thorough examination, but there wasn't much she could do because the infection had spread too far.
I was left with no option but to get reconstructive surgery to eliminate the infection and rectify the damage. The second specialist was in disbelief—she was horrified by the previous specialist's unprofessional conduct. She reported him to the health regulatory board, though I don't know what transpired afterwards. It took an excruciating decade to undergo all the required surgeries, and I still need more to fix the ensuing complications.
My mobility is now restricted to my house because of the unbearable pain. Consequently, I'm surviving on benefits, gaining weight due to lack of activity. My doctor is facing a challenging task of coordinating with seven necessary specialists from diverse fields to help manage my condition. At this pace, I'm worried I'll be stuck in this predicament indefinitely.
33. What A Jerk
Alright, let's clarify this. You're a bit over the ideal weight, but certainly not enough to have endometriosis—supposedly. It's supposed to be impossible to have endo without being extremely overweight. Like, really? Even after 15 years, this offhand comment leaves me puzzled. Especially considering this was given after a laparoscopy procedure, which was done to verify my gynecologist's suspicion of me having endo. This downright foolish doctor straight up disagreed with the surgical notes, insisting that the surgeon was mistaken, since I wasn't extremely overweight.
And no, the meeting wasn't about my weight or my endo at all. It was simply a review of my medical history for a new visit about a completely different matter. That was the one and only time I had to deal with this rude doctor.
34. It's You, Not Me
After my second appointment with my psychologist, my sister tragically died. That's when I discovered our estranged mother, whom none of us had spoken to in decades, returned to inherit my sister's properties. It was immediately after I had nearly bankrupted myself caring for my sister for two years. I was so anxious and scared, I sent out a flurry of urgent emails feeling that something was seriously amiss.
It came out later that what I had assumed to be psychological symptoms were actually manifestations of an undiagnosed kidney disease. She responded, via email, effectively dismissing me by saying: "I'm unable to provide the compassionate support you need. I advise you to consult an addiction specialist." I refuted that I was misusing any medication without medical supervision, but she only offered me links to other doctors' profiles, no proper referrals, just their public contact details.
I've been pondering her actions, unsure if she brushed me off thinking I was feigning everything, or believed I was heavily medicated and hallucinating, or simply didn't want to deal with a complicated case. The irony is that she's reputedly capable and even imparts knowledge at Columbia University. I was hopeful... at the very least, I wish she instructs her students to deliver better care. I'm still considering filing an official complaint.
All this happened during a tumultuous three-year phase when it seemed like my life was falling apart and I felt constantly unwell. I ballooned from 150 lbs to 220 lbs as bingeing sugar was the only respite I could find to relax or catch some sleep. I didn't even notice my increasing weight. I used to wake up in a state of panic every couple hours with my pulse at a stressful 110 bpm. Looking back, I'm astounded I came through that phase alive.
35. The Biggest Scam
During a routine check-up, I made a mistake. I was honest with the doctor about a minor allergy I have. He suggested I get an EpiPen, but considering my lack of insurance, I simply couldn't afford it. He then refused to approve the medical examination I needed for employment (since I'd been jobless for a year), saying he wouldn't just "give me the okay and wave me goodbye" potentially never seeing me again.
Feeling cornered, I eventually agreed to buy the EpiPen despite it costing a whopping $500, equivalent to my monthly rent. The most annoying thing is that he was so principled about medical ethics. I was merely concerned about my inability to afford the medication. Fortunately, I managed to convince him, and he certified my physical exam. He didn't even give me a proper checkup, never touched me, didn't measure my blood pressure or check for any lymph nodes or a hernia.
I wasn't bothered by a few unresolved issues on my medical record, mainly because I couldn't afford the surgeries needed to rectify them. I imagine his chief concern was protecting his medical license, not wanting to expose himself to a lawsuit should I die of anaphylactic shock or something similar. Medical care is frustrating. I loathe the system, the industry, and insurance; it all feels like a massive rip-off.
36. Power Trip
For over two decades, I've been enduring persistent pelvic and bladder discomfort. One male gynecological doctor took a glance at my pain levels and said, "I don't want you back here unless your pain is so severe that you can't even walk." He advised me to take paracetamol for the pain because, in his view, there wasn’t anything physically wrong with me. I later found out, nearly 18 years later, the real truth—that he attributed my physical pain to my mental health conditions.
His reputation was so formidable that all the other specialists I sought advice from sided with him. Unfortunately, I was never informed that he thought my discomfort was related to mental health issues. For years, I was in crippling pain, making it even more challenging to raise my daughter. That lost time is irreversible, and I'm still searching for a physician who can provide the help I need.
One of my encounters with this gynecologist ruined my life—it involved a laparoscopic attempt that had to be abandoned due to excessive scarring in my pelvic region. The scarring obscured the view of my organs, causing concern about the possibility of a perforation. Despite the surgical procedure being the only known cure, it was deemed too risky. Consequently, I spend each day heavily medicated, worried about what might be brewing within my body.
Although endometriosis is suspected, a definitive diagnosis via laparoscopic surgery isn't possible, leaving me untreated. I have this nagging feeling that if my mental health wasn't misjudged, I could have received the care I so desperately need. Regrettably, I'm left in agony while the well-off doctor is comfortably retired.
37. Passed Around
While managing pain at the hospital due to a deteriorating gallbladder, I was overwhelmed with medication but still hurting. This was because they erroneously provided muscle relaxants. Out of nowhere, a nurse advised me to ensure I used protection to avoid a miscarriage in future—talk about a shocker! To make matters worse, a doctor inaccurately labelled my case as "Munchausen's", even though my test results conveyed that my system was gradually collapsing. I had no option but to threaten legal recourse to get him to correct this.
Subsequently, I sought therapy to manage the distress from that unsettling health experience. Astonishingly, in spite of medical documentation confirming my body shutting down, numerous psychologists testified that I had a sound mental attitude towards food alongside intimidating diagnoses of IBS and GERD. One of them suggested I face my fears by consuming the foods that cause the most discomfort to conquer the mental block hindering my eating habits.
Sadly, this landed me in the ER within a week, due to bleeding in my lower esophagus. I promptly dismissed the therapist after informing her about the negative impact of her advice. The most astounding part is, all this happened when I was just 16. I was on the brink of passing away and now, I'm disabled. Rough experiences like these make rural living challenging.
38. Gill Girl
The time my regular doctor was out of town, I went to a walk-in clinic for my gout treatment where they prescribed two types of pills. However, only a few days later, I started feeling extremely unwell. Despite the overwhelming discomfort, I persisted for a couple more days, hoping for an improvement in my foot's excruciating swelling and pain. Eventually, the intense sickness led my mom to take me to see our family doctor who had just returned.
Upon examining my medication, my doctor was shocked. It turned out that the early stages of organ failure had set in due to the harmful interaction of the two pills, which should be never taken together. This same walk-in clinic doctor, during a prior visit for a simple cold, had once told me my throat was swollen due to my "gills" from when I was a baby not closing properly.
Subsequently, my buddies nicknamed me "Gill Girl" for the next month.
39. Thanks For Nothing
On my birthday, I had an unfortunate accident where I tripped and broke my right hand. During the recovery process, my left hand was persistently painful. I started to suspect that I might have injured my left hand as well. So, about two months post the accident, I paid a visit to urgent care to get an X-ray of my left hand. Turns out, I was right. I had fractured two bones: the base of my fifth metacarpal and a bone in my wrist were both broken.
Regretfully, I don't have health insurance. However, I'm enrolled for it and am currently receiving financial aid from the hospital group I've been with since my birth. The male nurse attending to me at the urgent care had quite a peculiar approach. Observing my X-ray, he jokingly remarked, “Well, it genuinely seems like you're not pretending to be in pain. Your left hand indeed has two fractures that are currently healing. We could offer you a splint, but that would cost us $80. So, I've given you the details of a splint you can purchase off Amazon”.
Handing me the print-out for the Amazon splint, he further added, “However, if you find that to be expensive, some duct tape should do the trick!". With a chuckle, he then left the room. I felt rather annoyed and decided if I ever run into him outside the hospital, he's up for a knuckle sandwich.
40. The Dental Fairy
I had this unusual puffiness in my cheek, so I paid a visit to my doctor. Upon examination, he pointed out it was likely related to a dental problem and advised me to see a dentist. My own dentist is quite the character, a lively Korean man, who was dealing with a sudden power outage at the time of my appointment, yet he managed to still get me an X-Ray using a generator, some elbow grease, a bit of shouting, and what seemed like ritualistic sorcery. Turned out, my teeth were in perfect shape, but there was a problem— there was an alarming lump nestled in the fatty area of my cheek.
I immediately feared the worst, suspecting cancer. I brought this information back to my doctor, expecting to have a needle artfully stuck in my cheek for a biopsy. Instead, the doctor asked whether I had visited his recommended dentist. When I answered No, he voiced his disapproval rather loudly, still convinced it was connected to a dental problem and refusing to take a sample from my cheek until I saw his preferred dentist.
Feeling unsatisfied, I left and started looking for another opinion. During this period, my cheek swelled alarmingly, progressing from "mildly concerning" to "frighteningly grotesque". It grew until it was pressing into my mouth and sinus. Finally, I was fed up and I decided to take action—I rushed to the emergency room. They took a fluid sample straight away and revealed that I was suffering from cellulitis. I was quickly given antibiotics and spent some time confined in darkness until I felt comfortable enough to face humanity without a need to hide.
I haven't had a chance to see the first doctor again, but I do have an appointment coming up in a fortnight with my remarkable dentist.
41. Mental Challenges
Let's clear one thing up: My bipolar disorder is a real illness, not a result of poor coping mechanisms. For context, I've been diagnosed with severe Type I bipolar disorder with mixed features, along with a history of psychosis, generalized anxiety, and thoughts related to self-harm. This isn't unexpected, as bipolar disorder significantly runs in my maternal lineage—involving my mother, her sister, their mother, and even my great-grandfather who passed away in a mental institution in the '50s.
Additionally, I have had my diagnosis corroborated independently by six different psychiatrists, some of whom I interacted with during my stays at various psychiatric facilities. Now, to dismiss the misunderstanding: I'm not failing at life. My psychiatrists and therapist refer to me as "high functioning" (for want of a better word).
To further illustrate this point, I'm a successful researcher who earned my Ph.D. by the age of 24. I hold a senior position in a well-established university, managing my own department. I have mentored several Ph.D. and M.S. students and am currently in charge of six permanent staff members. I have over 60 publications in peer-reviewed journals and several book chapters to my name, and have obtained more than $6 million in research grants—all accomplished before hitting the age of 40. Plus, on a personal level, I'm blessed to be married to a wonderful supportive woman, and we've a fantastic daughter, both of whom I'm utterly in love with.
To clarify, this isn't a boast but simply the evidence of how I navigate life successfully. The 'glitch' is, my brain works differently due to my bipolar disorder.
42. On A Scale Of 1 to Dead...
Once upon a time, I had an ear infection that got so bad I ended up puncturing my eardrum. When I went to see my doctor, after taking a look he reassured me that my eardrum would likely heal on its own (and it did indeed do just that). He also mentioned he'd give me antibiotics to help me fight the infection.
Then, out of the blue, he says to me "I can see from your medical history that you're allergic to Amoxicillin, but I'm thinking of prescribing it anyway. Just how severe is your allergy?"
After taking a second to get over the surprise of my doctor wanting to potentially trigger my allergy, I simply replied with a stern "Enough..." Surprisingly, that was all it took to make him rethink his decision. So instead, he prescribed Erythromycin—which worked like a charm, without causing any allergic reactions!
43. Shared Incompetence
One night, my wife jolted me awake, clutching her stomach in agony. We raced to the hospital, but by the time we arrived, her pain had subsided. The doctor, after a quick check-up, dismissed it as acid reflux. The same painful bouts persisted, in spite of consultations with multiple doctors.
Despite prescribing various antacids and the like, there was no relief. Astonishingly, the doctors kept insisting these intense bouts of stomach pain, relieved only by vomiting, were classic symptoms of acid reflux. Even more baffling was their advice for my teetotaler wife to quit drinking and to check a pregnancy that she was certain didn't exist.
Fast forward a few months, her agonizing episodes were now occurring weekly rather than monthly. It was time for another hospital visit. While checking her in, a doctor casually mentioned running some tests, all but convinced it was 'just' acid reflux. I insisted quite strongly that it was something else.
Maybe it was my dogged conviction that prompted the clinical team to dig deeper. Lo and behold, it wasn't acid reflux. The culprit lurked elsewhere: gall stones, lodged in the duct that connected her gall bladder and pancreas, causing a potentially fatal pancreatic swelling. About time they took corrective action, but what a frustrating journey up until then.
Witnessing her struggle, it was obvious that this was a grave health issue. But doctors were quick to label it as acid reflux, admonishing her to forego all beverages and fatty foods. We heaved a sigh of relief post her gall bladder surgery. However, despite assurances from the doctors that the discomforting symptoms wouldn't resume post-surgery, they did indeed return.
44. Loner Problems
"When you've got friends, why not confide in them?" That was my doctor's response when I asked to see a therapist. Here in Germany, health insurance may cover up to three therapy sessions annually, but a referral from a general practitioner is required. My family life was in turmoil—my mom's mental illness derailed her relationships with me and my younger brother.
At 19, while juggling payments on a house loan I'd taken to buy my dad out (so that my mom wouldn't inherit the house if he died), there were different factions each with their own agenda trying to sway me. My troubles mounted when my dad fell from a ladder, suffering a head injury. Though he survived, I wasn't sure if he'd ever be the same. On top of that, I was the only grown-up my brother, who was 11 at the time, trusted.
After sharing this heavy load with the doctor and her accompanying intern, she queried if I really needed that therapy appointment...
45. Seed Of Doubt
After giving birth to my son, I confided in my family doctor through a waterfall of tears. I shared the disturbing memory flashes of the birth process and my sudden panic attacks. I expressed my inability to carry on well, confessing the dark thoughts clouding my mind. Her reaction? She told me I should consider myself fortunate to have a healthy child. Not every woman is so lucky, she assured me, adding that I would eventually overcome this feeling. Yet, I didn’t. It took another year before I managed to find the help I desperately needed.
Now, nearly eight years later, my battle with depression and anxiety continues, although things have improved significantly. That initial dismissal of my feelings made seeking help incredibly challenging, instilling in me the belief that I was nothing but an ungrateful person.
46. The Tums Solution
I was experiencing panic attacks with symptoms that I initially mistook for stomach problems, particularly due to chest discomfort. After being urged to follow up with a doctor post an emergency room visit, I started searching for a new healthcare professional. I ended up in a clinic where I had to endure a two and a half hour wait in a packed lobby, filled with constant, piercing children's shrieks. The doctor, when she finally appeared and we managed to chat, left me with just one piece of advice.
She advised incessantly consuming Tums. I inquired whether there might be another approach, or if she could even just conduct further tests. However, she dismissed my requests, simply iterating the suggestion to keep on taking Tums. It almost felt like she had some vested interest in promoting that remedy!
47. An Extremely Close Call
Following an accident, I suffered from what I later discovered to be a ruptured bladder. My bladder was quite full at the time, and the pain was unbearable, unlike anything I'd ever felt before. It was so intense, I was seeing flashes of white light and came close to losing consciousness several times.
The ER doctor I saw dismissed my theory that something might be seriously wrong with my bladder, stating that was "not possible". His words were, "Sometimes what we perceive as BIG pain comes from a SMALL problem. You probably just have a bit of trapped gas". Without further examination, he swiftly discharged me, leaving me to make my own way home.
I lived half a mile away, and since it was 3am, and I couldn't reach anyone for a lift, I had no option but to walk. Upon reaching home, I spent 14 debilitating pain-filled hours in bed, throwing up repeatedly.
My breathing became labored, I lost consciousness a few times, and eventually summoned the strength to dial 9-1-1 again. Rescuers had to break down my front door as I was incapacitated. That day, I almost lost my life. Even though I later saw the same ER doctor (after a different physician confirmed my bladder had indeed ruptured causing a string of severe complications), he stubbornly stuck to his initial assessment. According to him, I must have somehow managed to rupture my bladder post-discharge.
"Big pain, small problem," he had said.
How frustrating!
48. Just Plain Useless
My wife experienced a shifting of her placenta when she was seven months into her pregnancy. One early morning, around 3 am, we woke up to a frightening scene—blood was everywhere. Without wasting a moment, I quickly bundled her into our truck and raced towards the nearest local hospital. This took place in a rural part of northern Thailand, where medical resources can be limited.
The person who attended us, a "doctor", hardly seemed older than a teenager. He fumbled with an ultrasound machine for a brief period. Then, he bluntly dropped the worst news:" "Sorry, but it seems we've lost the baby."
Not willing to accept this prognosis, I moved my weakened wife into a wheelchair, took her back to our truck, and set off for the closest international hospital in Udon Thani—a two-hour journey. Here, she was treated by experienced doctors who managed to stabilize her condition. Today, our son, the one we almost lost, is now a thriving 10-year-old boy who loves nothing more than playing Minecraft.
49. Out Of Left Field
My wife battles with several autoimmune diseases and used to experience unexplained pain. After seeing a rheumatologist, she was further diagnosed with fibromyalgia. In that appointment, we discussed with the doctor the role genetics might play and the potential risk of our children inheriting these diseases.
As he was leaving, the doctor paused, looked back at us and said, "Bet you're wishing you'd known about her genetic conditions before marrying her, aren't you?" His comment absolutely floored me; I've never been left speechless like that. It's these kind of experiences that shape a doctor's reputation within support groups.
My wife shared his words with everyone! But just to clarify, I never wished for foreknowledge of her conditions! It's not in my nature to let such things affect my love for her. My commitment was for "all time and eternity" and that definitely includes chronic illnesses.
50. A Fatal Mistake
Two different doctors told my dad, "You're simply too young to have prostate cancer. Skip the biopsy, it's likely just a bladder issue." Regrettably, he passed away a mere 15 months later, his body riddled with an aggressive cancer that spawned a network of tumors all over.
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