No longer told I’m young
Not told that it’s my weight
Not told that it’s my mental health
She acknowledges my miserable state
Giving so many vials of blood
I hope to find a cure
Or at least some sort of treatment
For the hell that I endure
Waiting waiting waiting
For the next appointment date
Anxious for a diagnosis
To learn about my fate
The doctor could not tell me
What she thinks is wrong
She started me on medicine anyway
My heart sang a joyous song
More tests need done for a diagnosis
But that’s not the most important part
Being given something to make me feel better…
I’ve waited so long to start.
My whole life has been pain
And suffering and woe
I never thought I’d be taken seriously
And misery is all I’d know
But now I have hope
To be free from this strife
To take my freedom for myself
To be able to have a life
My poetry is hella shitty, but I wanted to post this anyway because I’m really happy that my new rheumatologist is taking me seriously and I need everyone to know lol. I’m finally getting treatment for how shitty I feel after trying to get taken seriously for 20 goddamn years. Hoping the treatment works. :)
It took my mother more than 20 years before she found a doctor who took her seriously and diagnosed her as having a hyperactive thyroid, then another 25 years before one went over her extensive list of meds one by one to determine she had a one in a million allergy to cortisone that was causing mild organ failure.
Doctors don’t listen well, especially to women. It’s getting better, but only slowly.