My Doctor Made Me Cry Today

This is going to be my most difficult writing, for a number of reasons. First of all, I don't like to admit it when I am hurt. I walk it off. I refuse to show it. I also am being a little more free with personal information than I normally prefer to be, however I feel like it is in the interest of the general public, and therefore worth a little public exposure. I will preface this with the fact that I am turning 50 in two months. I am in the middle of a divorce, have four young adult and teenaged girls, and a wonderful new love in my life. Everyone likes one another just fine, it's all working out. But I have been going through some professional difficulty, along with a lot of emotional stress of late. I just entered what I have been told is official menopause, since it has been a year and a couple of months since my last period. But last week my stress level hit a critical level and I began spotting. I started Googling causes of spotting in post-menopausal women, and found nothing at all encouraging, so I called my doctor's office. I am really tired, and I wish I could just lie down and go to sleep. But I need to get through this. I had an appointment already set for today, so I agreed to keep it, and received a little bit of reassurance from the nurse I spoke with about the spotting matter. The scary part was talking about menopause, and what if I had "pulled the goalie" before the game had actually, officially, ended...so to speak. I get to the doctor. My weight has gone down again, by about 10 lbs since my October appointment. This has been a long, purposefully slow journey, but steady and I am proud of how well it has gone. But, I am not going to waste away anytime soon, and 10 lbs pleased me greatly. The doctor comes in and sits and begins to read from my medical record..."Patient presents as a 49 year old woman who is going through a divorce. She is sad, because she moved away from her children and works in Santa Fe, and commutes long hours..." this goes on for a while. I am stricken by the stark narrative of my life of four months ago. He asks what is new, and I tell him about Patrick, our exciting new relationship, our many things in common, and how well we fit into each other's lives. And I say, and, "And yesterday, for Valentine's Day and Lent, I quit smoking." He looks at me, then looks back at the computer. "You requested a pregnancy test." "Yes, I did. I know that the chances are slim, but I was spotting last week, we talked about that. I just want to make sure that I am not pregnant." Then he asked the question. "Do you believe in abortion?" I felt like I had been punched. "I believe that I am a 50 year old woman who has had five c-sections and has no interest in suffering a ruptured uterus and maternal death, I believe in surviving." I walked out, peed in a cup, and returned. I was teary. He offered me a tissue and seemed confused by my emotionalism. I reminded him that I had quit smoking yesterday and was a bit tense. He offered a prescription for the patch, and I declined. I asked to test my hormone levels to verify my lack of fertility, he declined. He asked if I really had five children. I said that I did, although my eldest was a son I had given up for adoption. He stared at me. "Well who has him now?" "He's an adult, with a family of his own. He's in the Air Force." "Do you speak with him?" "I have, it has been a while, but when he wants to, we do talk." More staring. "So now that you are unemployed, who will pay your bills?" I was thrown by this question. "Well, things are tough, to be sure. I am looking for another job, and I have help." "Oh, so your boyfriend, he is paying your bills???" I was too stunned to answer. He then insisted that I begin an injectable medication to help me lose more weight. I asked if it was covered by insurance, and he directed me to the sample clinic. I am quoting him again here, "It will help you lose more weight, and you can be cute for your new boyfriend." I walked out of there in tears. I felt devalued as a human, as a woman. I felt mocked for my concerns about my sexual and reproductive health. I felt belittled. I never hear men talk about their health care providers like this. (Out of curiosity I went to see what this drug was and how much it would cost. I was told that it might be covered partially, and that inside the package was a coupon that would bring it down to about $18 a week. Even employed, that cost is pretty high. I would struggle to afford it. Now it is out of the question.) So, I am interested in your experiences with your providers. You don't have to be as detailed as I have been here, but what does your doctor do to make you feel uncomfortable? Conversely, what has your doctor done to make you feel listened to, reassured, important?