I finally decided to go to the doctor again after I haven’t been in a while. I just get so sick of the attitudes some doctors have- and I can’t seem to find one without that attitude. But I’ve been feeling really bad so I bit the bullet.

The doctor couldn’t see me, so I was set up with his Nurse Practioner. That was ok with me because I see a NP at the Women’s clinic and that one seems like she might know more than the docs. I expected this one to be the same.

She comes in and says “You’ve been diagnosed with fibromyalgia.” No, I haven’t. The doctor said if we couldn’t find anything else out we’d test for that, but he didn’t diagnose me with it. She seemed confused. The doctor had written that diagnosis in my chart, but hadn’t told me he was diagnosing me with it. That’s what she said anyway. Ok, fine.

I asked her for some pamphlets to take home to give to my husband. He’s very skeptical, I tell her, and even accused me of faking my illness to get out of family dinners. The entire time I was talking to her she was typing away on her laptop. Was she recording my every word? I didn’t know, but it was disconcerting. I like when people look at me so that I know they hear what I’m saying. She seemed disinterested.

“We don’t have information on it. You should go home and look it up on the Internet.”

HUH? Did my healthcare provider just tell me to look up information on a diagnosis she just gave me, rather than tell me herself? Why, yes. That’s exactly what happened. Did she hear what I said about validating all this craziness to my husband? Apparently not. Did she hear when I said I’m frustrated with this crap and doctors annoy me? Nope, must’ve missed that part too. She didn’t even try to appear sympathetic. She just continued to tap, tap, tap on her keyboard.

“What are you doing?” I asked her. Maybe she was unconscious of the fact that she was giving her piece of hardware more attention than her patient. I thought maybe I’d shame her into turning away from that thing. I was wrong.

“I’m trying to figure out how to write this diagnosis. There isn’t a word for it.”

Double HUH? Really? There’s no word for it? Are you KIDDING? Unfortunately, no, she wasn’t kidding. She just told me I have fibromyalgia, but apparently she didn’t know there was a word for such a thing. Please, someone help me make sense of that. I was too tired to even make a fuss about the complete lack of sense this woman was making. I was planning my search for a new doctor as I sat there. Yup, there was no putting it off after this visit.

She tells me she’s going to put me on SSRIs. I say “No”. Then she said something about Cymbalta (I quit that, by the way), I said “Been there, done that. Can’t take it.” Then she went to consult with the doctor. When she came back she had a prescription for Vicodin. Apparently I’d been taking the Tramadol all wrong. Now I was to take the Vicodin whenever I was sick and the Tramadol when the Vicodin didn’t help. Then she told me she was going to set me up with someone who specializes in fibromyalgia. Cool. That works for me. Get me with someone who knows what the hell they’re doing.

I get called into the appointment desk (they have a relatively large staff here and one lady just for doing referrals and that sort of thing). The lady, I’ll call her Pat, is on the phone. She asks me what day I’m available. I tell her. She says “You have to see a counselor first.” A genetic counselor? “No, to get in with the psychiatrist you have to see a counselor first.”

The specialist was a psychiatrist. I was floored. I told Pat that I was only going to get treatment for fibromyalgia. Well, Pat doesn’t even bother to hide her irritation with me. She just kind of snorts and says “They don’t treat that at the mental health clinic.” Really? I would never have guessed! She goes on to tell me that my chart shows that I’m diagnosed with General Anxiety Disorder and she doesn’t know where I got fibromyalgia.

“The NP just diagnosed me five minutes ago.” I was too tired to even care. What a bunch of arrogant jerks! Here I was wasting my money to be told lies and be laughed at. I told her not to make the appointment, I’d call and do it myself. Then I left. I could have ranted and raved. But what would have been the point? They would have been validated in their dual diagnosis then and I still wouldn’t have quality care.

When I got home I called my insurance company and they gave me a number for a rheumatologist. I called the rheumatologist to make an appointment and they asked which doctor referred me. I gave them my PCPs name. They didn’t know any different. Right? So, I have an appointment on Thursday with them. They do treat fibromyalgia. And hopefully they take it more seriously.

I’ve read online that you should take materials to your doctor to help educate them. That a lot of doctor’s aren’t well read on fibromyalgia and may still think it’s a throw-away diagnosis. We as patients should inform them and teach them. I disagree completely. If my doctor tells me that I have an ailment, then my doctor should know what the hell he/she is talking about regarding that ailment. I shouldn’t have to go home and “look it up on the Internet” and then give them what I found. I pay the doctor to do this. I pay a lot of money. My insurance just jumped through the roof in June and I fully expect the doctor to be knowledgeable regarding these things. I think that if a doctor doesn’t know enough about a diagnosis to give the proper information then that doctor shouldn’t be diagnosing. He should be referring.