I went to visit my mum about six weeks ago and I managed to catch a head cold which just never moved from my chest. It’s gotten steadily worse and it became apparent this week that I really needed a GP and potentially some antibiotics. I made an appointment and popped down with Greg to see the GP who had time on his schedule as my usual GP had his day off.
We arrived and were eventually called into his room. I quickly explained that I thought I might have a chest infection and might possibly need some antibiotics. He checked me over and agreed that some antihistamines and some antibiotics should see me right.
Then he looked at his screen and saw my PET scan results which is how they were able to pinpoint that I have early onset alzheimer’s. He seemed surprised and noted that I was too young for this. We both agreed and then I made the move to leave and he wasn’t having that, he had questions.
I on the other hand had half an hour to leave the GP’s office and get my prescription filled so I was on a mission. He sat there looking at my various results and asking some questions - it was like he didn’t believe the results that he was seeing.
On the way home Greg and I were discussing the odd visit when he gave me the missing piece of the puzzle. Greg said “was he the guy who patted your hand and told you not to worry?”
I had completely forgotten this but my first step in getting help was to start with a GP. I wanted a referral to get a cognitive test and if possible, a PET scan. It was just after the Christmas holidays and my usual GP was on holiday so I made an appointment with whoever was available.
I explained what had been happening to me, that I had relatives with the same condition and asked what I could do next. His reply was to pat my hand and tell me that I had nothing to worry about. I remember thinking - “this is why you start with your usual GP; he knows me.” My usual GP knew me well enough to know that I am not a hypochondriac who makes up things up. I must have mentally deleted this encounter and it wasn’t till Greg reminded me that it all came flooding back.
I waited for three weeks until my usual GP was back and did the visit over again but this time with different results. My own GP took me slightly more seriously but again he didn’t really believe until he had some scan results in his hands. They need proof or certainty of a thing until they will believe in it. I on the other hand have faith.
I had faith in myself - I knew that something was wrong, I’ve lived with this brain of mine for 54 years and I knew it wasn’t working the way it used to. I was definitely more aware than the average human but only because there is a genetic link to my early onset alzheimer’s. I had certainty even if they needed concrete proof of a thing before they joined me.
Years ago, I spent six weeks at a mental health unit in Perth, three weeks as an inpatient and three weeks as a day patient. One of the first things they taught us at that clinic was to question our health professionals including themselves. So much harm has been caused by well-meaning people trying to help those in the midst of depression. When you are deeply depressed it’s easier to go along with other people’s opinions, you usually have none of your own. Many a patient has found themselves in the midst of some weird and wonderful “cure” for the depressed which was anything but.
I’m eternally grateful that I was taught this lesson about questioning health professionals because I believe my story would be very different without it. I suspect that I could have happily gone along with the “pat” answer. I chose to have certainty in myself, to believe what was happening even if the ultimate outcome was not good news.
I have a feeling that last night there was a GP kicking himself all the way home. He must have remembered me and surely people don’t pop up daily asking for cognitive tests so he must have remembered that as well. He truly believed that he had given me good advice that day I went to see him. A year and a half later he must have been shocked and surprised to find that I did indeed have what I was concerned about all those months ago.
I really hope that it makes him pause the next time someone like me comes across his path. I hope and pray that he learns to listen properly to his patients, to take them seriously and above all to treat them like the intelligent people they are.
I’m not discounting the years of study and hands on learning that our health professionals go through. I’m just suggesting they put down all that knowledge for a minute and listen to what we are trying to tell them. If they did that, they might come to a diagnosis with us instead of it feeling like nothing is real until we have a piece of paper that says it is.
This morning I am certain of two things - antibiotics work, I already feel better and secondly that I am grateful for a GP who believed in me enough to get further tests.