Monday, 23 May 2011


I hate doctors.

I hate the way they think they know everything. They have this sense of power and they are in control. They make you feel like an object. Like a problem they need to solve. 

Generally when I say this, I mean G.Ps. Ok, so they have studied for a long time and they have PHDs. But really, doctor’s offices are like a glorified sorting office. 

They get you in and out on your way as quickly as possible, sending you off to the appropriate place. Whether it be the pharmacy to get your antibiotics, the hospital for tests or to see a specialist.

Or home again to suck it up and carry on.

I know I am generalising. There are good doctors and bad doctors, and each person will have a different opinion on which is which. 

You could see hundreds of doctors who would all say the same thing, and then one day, you could see one who will finally offer you the solution you have been looking for. Who will at last bring light to your darkened world. Someone who actually understands, who sees people like you every day, and will offer you back your life.

For some people though, they do not get that chance. They might not get a diagnosis until it is too late. Or their doctor may not give them any good news. This is important to remember, because there are people who are a lot worse off than me. I am lucky. You have to think these sorts of things to get you through. It can be too easy to get sucked up into your own world, and forget about what is going on outside

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