Nearly ten years ago, a doctor told me diabetes would kill me, it was just a matter of how soon. I couldn't see the benefit of his ugly, callous prediction. I couldn't see the benefit of being locked into a medical relationship with someone who saw me as a hopeless expiration date. I decided even with long waits and insurance hurdles, it would always be worth it to find doctors who are supportive and try to understand me as a person.
Today, I broke up with
I'm not convinced he's not a good doctor, but he's not a good fit for me. He has been seeing me for two months to help me prepare for another baby, but I don't think he knows anything about me. Our appointments last less than 5 minutes, he gives me vaguely shaming advice to lose weight, "start" exercising, stop being diabetic. He has never asked me whether I exercise, what I eat, what I do to control my diabetes. He has made assumptions about my lifestyle based on my appearance, …
I was recently told by someone who knows me very well that I conceal my anxiety like a cool cucumber. Maybe that's true, and not everyone in the whole world knows I've been struggling with anxiety and panic since Lizzie was born. Well, first, it is getting better. :D I was able to write about it for Romper.com! My Baby's Appointments Triggered Panic Attacks, But I Learned To Cope
"I found that staying aware of tangible things around me left less mental space for catastrophizing."