Ditched by my Doctor

Over the last few years I have developed a strange disabililty: I am unable to make appointments with my doctor. Actually, making appointments with any doctor has become exceedingly difficult. But, after being several years behind in my "yearly" exams, and thanks to some not-so-gentle prodding from my friends, I finally called my family practitioner and made an appointment last fall.
I hadn't seen this doctor for so long that my records hadn't made the switch from paper to the handy, portable computer he carried into the exam room.
I like this doctor. He has taken me seriously in the past and I have never felt judged or uncomfortable in his presence - all three or four times I've seen him in the last 12 years or so.
I have had issues with fibromyalgia and extreme fatigue for years now. At least, I think it's fibromyalgia, though I've never followed through with the zillions of tests it takes to first eliminate every other possible disease it isn't. That's the only way to find out for sure and I never felt as if I had the time or the energy to pursue the definitive diagnosis.
So, I had my physical and was to follow up with blood tests, a mammogram and colonoscopy (family history, not symptoms).
This was in September. By the end of November I realized that there was no way - no way - I could get to the clinic first thing in morning for the fasting blood test without my coffee. My coffee is vitally important to me. Sometimes at night, when I'm drifting off to sleep, I'm already thinking about that first cup of Sumatran dark roast. And I can't drink it black. If I were to try to leave home at 7:30 in the morning without any coffee at all, I'm afraid they'd find my blathering nearly comatose body in a ditch somewhere and I wouldn't even have managed to have the blood drawn. Besides, if I did somehow get to the appointment sans coffee I know I would be a wreck the entire rest of the day. Who would feed my children and scoop my cats' litter boxes? Who would answer the phone and fold laundry?
You begin to see my dilemma. Can't leave house early in the a.m. without coffee, therefore can't get blood drawn for testing.
In December I received a gently-phrased, yet somehow accusatory, letter from the doctor's office asking, Was I alright? They had noticed that I hadn't made my appointments for the blood test, mammogram or colonoscopy? Was there anything they could do to help me?
I felt like I had been called down to the principal's office and this little lapse in responsible behavior would go down in my permanent record. Forever. Surely they weren't going to call my Mom. Were they?
The letter, along with the unrelenting fatigue, did prod me to act responsibly.
I complained to my husband.
And complained to my husband.
Did I say I complained to my husband?
I explained how there was no way I could make this appointment, let alone drive myself there alone. Without coffee. In the morning. Perhaps it was because he loves me so much and hates how he suffers how I suffer from my fatigue, but finally, in February my husband called and made my appointment. On the day of the appointment, he woke me up, drove me to the appointment and even put up with my crabbiness the whole way. On the way home, he bought me a Starbucks.
Whew. I had finally done it! I'd had my blood drawn. Now all I had to do was make the mammogram and colonoscopy appointments and I could cross "responsible care of self" off my list for 2008.
Then I got the call. My blood test results indicated hypothyroidism. This could explain everything: the fatigue, irritability, imbalanced cholesterol, weight gain, depression, skin breakouts, heavy periods - in short, I could blame my whole personality on a faulty thyroid. I was thrilled!
I made another appointment with my doctor to talk about hypothyroidism and pick up a prescription. I only had to cancel this appointment once, but that was because of the snow. Really. This one was pretty easy, though, because I could have my coffee and eat breakfast and not have to be at the doctor's office until 1 p.m. I could do this! (Besides, my husband was in South America at the time...)
Made the appointment, was horrified at how much weight I've actually gained in the last five years, picked up my prescription and was good to go. On the way out, I made an appointment for a follow up blood test in six weeks, confident of my new-found ability to take responsibility for my health. I even started exercising nearly every day, just like the doctor told me to.
And, lo and behold, over this last month and a half, I have started feeling better. Lots better. I have a ton more energy and have found myself doing household chores even when company isn't coming. Woo-hoo!
In the interum, I also scheduled the mammogram. I was on a roll!
I knew the follow-up appointment was coming up. I was on the second month of the prescription, so it had to be. I didn't search for the appointment card which is buried somewhere in my purse. The office always calls the day before to remind people of their appointments. I was a little nervous about the coffee thing, but figured I could manage this one myself. Somehow. And I am feeling better. Lots.
Last weekend was really, really busy. We had just gotten home from a spring break trip to Chicago and had two birthdays with Easter sandwiched in between. My husband and youngest were also sick all weekend and on Monday. Somehow, I forgot to check the answering machine all week.
Yes, I know, that was also irresponsible of me. Let's just say I have lots of phone issues.
I called my husband this afternoon (I can call him) and he casually mentioned that he'd listened to the messages last night and there was one from the doctor's office. Did I know I had an appointment on Monday?
Umm, which Monday?
He didn't know. The message didn't say.
I quickly called the office and the receptionist confirmed my worst fear: I had missed my appointment. I was a No Show. I apologized profusely, wanting to explain the pitiful details of my life and yet not wanting my listening children to hear that their mother had been labeled a NO SHOW and it was her own fault.
So, could I schedule an appointment as soon as possible?
"There's a note here that says you were a NO SHOW and he won't see you again."
What? Umm, I don't know any other doctors in that practice and I really need this follow-up appointment to make sure my dosage is correct, that I'm losing weight, that my cholesterol is back in balance.
I think she might have been able to hear the panic in my voice.
She offered to send my apology to the nurses and I would probably hear from them next week. Probably.
My doctor ditched me. I made one little mistake and he banned me. I've been banned by a person who took an oath to help me, no less.
I could understand having to pay for the missed appointment. That seems perfectly fair. But really, I only made one mistake. One mistake with his office, anyway.
So, I'll wait to see if I get a call next week. I'll even listen to the answering machine. But I don't think I can see this doctor again. I want my doctor to be forgiving and compassionate - at least a little bit.
Wow, now I not only have to find another doctor. But I have to call and make an appointment...