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What is it about illness that opens a person up as a free-for-all repository of the worst, most condescending advice imaginable?

Unsolicited Medical Advice – Nothing about Everything

One word – no. I’ll stop you before you even start.

I’ve stopped talking to people about my health (apart from a trusted 1-2 closest friends) precisely because of this reason. Because everyone seems to want to have a say.

“I think you should change your doctor, I don’t think your current doctor is doing a good job.”

“Why don’t you opt for something more natural? Like Traditional Chinese Medicine.”

“You should seek a third opinion. Your current medications are too expensive.”

“You should take more vitamin A/B/C/D/E (or whatsoever).”

No. I did not ask you for your advice. And no, I don’t think you’re in the position to judge that “my doctor is not doing a good job” or “my medications are not right for me”. Neither should you be dishing out advice when you do not have the full picture. (Which you definitely don’t – I’ve kept 90% of the ‘picture’ hidden. The remaining 10% are the occasional symptoms you see.)

I speak for myself and most chronically ill people out there. I understand your intentions are good/you want to help. But really, no thank you.

Instead, this is what I ask for.

Trust that my doctor and I are allies, that we are working together towards the best possible way to fight this monster that is my illness(es). My doctor is doing his best. So am I.

Just because I am not in what you think is the “optimum state of health” does not mean that my doctor is not doing a good job. We are doing the best we can. It’s challenging to restore a car that has been in a bad accident to it’s original state of glory. Likewise for humans.

I accept my current state of health now (although you might disagree) because it’s already several times better than how it was before – when I was going in and out of hospital every week or even every night.

The road to recovery is not always smooth. There will be hiccups.

Trust in the fact that I am perfectly capable to manage my own health and make sound decisions.

Realize the reason why I am rejecting all forms of unsolicited medical advice is because I’ve been with this long enough to understand myself and my own body, and that I know my own medical history best, and what my current health can and cannot tolerate. (Not because I am stubborn or close-minded, as some people put it. On top of the fact that you’re sticking your nose up somewhere it doesn’t belong.)

There are many other ways to help without walking down the unsolicited medical advice route (which trust me, pisses the person off more than “helping”). Supportive messages when things aren’t going too great is good enough. And even if you’re silent when we’re seated face to face, I’ll still know you’re with me.

Thank you.

It makes me feel like you think this is somehow still my fault. Like, if I really wanted to get better, I would just do the random thing you were telling me about, because obviously that’s what you would do in my situation and then you would get better and then you wouldn’t have this issue. But that’s not reality.

All your unsolicited medical advice totally cured me! (J/k) – The Only Certainty Is Bad Grammar

My painful invisible disease is more real than your imaginary medical expertise.

Unsolicited Medical Advice – Unsolicited Medical Advice Warriors

I’ve had my first (and last) consultation with a general surgeon today, and returned home with a slightly diminished level of respect for the medical profession (and zilch respect for surgeons in general) and a mind that is still boggling at the ridiculousness of the whole situation.

If you’ve been following my Twitter updates during the past few hours, you’ll understand why I am so miffed.

My impression of him was mediocre at best during the first few minutes of my consultation. He wasn’t very personable, and basically treated the patient (me) like “just another object he has to deal with in his line of work.”

That impression went on a further downward spiral when he snapped at me later during the consultation.

“Don’t you question me! Just do what I tell you to do” was his abrupt, arrogant response, when I asked him about my physio treatment and what it was for, and how he came up with his eventual prognosis.

“Excuse me? I am the patient. I have every right to question you on what you are going to do and the rationale behind any treatment I need,” I retorted in response.

I am paying YOU for your time. Additionally, it is MY treatment and MY body that it affects. I have every right to know what is going on. It is a basic right, a given entitlement to any patient.

Is it so difficult for you to open your mouth to explain, given your experience and standing in your profession? Also considering that I am paying you a hundred buckeroos for a 20-minute long consultation?

It doesn’t just end at his lack of emotional quotient.

Unfortunately for me, Mister Surgeon happened to be a preachy religion advocate too.

Disclaimer:
For the record, I have absolutely nothing against religious people. I respect them for their beliefs and in return, they respect me for mine. However, I have zero tolerance towards those who don’t.

Towards the end of the consultation – just as I was about to leave – Mister Surgeon told me that “I should start praying more.”

“I don’t pray,” I informed him. (For the record, I am agnostic.)

That was when he turned to my mother and asked what religion we were. Mum informed him that my family members are free-thinkers while I am an agnostic. In response, Mister Surgeon began to tut.

“Ah, no wonder! You’re not praying at all! That’s why you are sick all the time and not recovering!” says he, visibly showing his displeasure.

My patience snapped.

“Excuse me? YOU have YOUR beliefs and I have MINE. I have the prerogative to choose what I want or do not want to believe in, and you do not impose your beliefs on others.”

The consultation ended on that note.

However, my encounter with Mister Surgeon didn’t end there.

A few minutes later, mum and I returned to the clinic as she wanted to ask the nurse some questions. Mister Surgeon happened to be at the waiting room at the time and approached me when he saw me.

“Let’s leave your mum and my nurse to talk. You don’t need to listen to them. Let’s go outside,” says he.

I was immediately on guard.

“Why?” I asked. “They are talking about my medical situation. I can stay around and listen in if I want to.”

“Let’s go to the lift area. I want to talk to you spiritually,” says he. I didn’t respond. I simply glared at him.

“Well you see, God is asking me to talk to you,” he continues.

I continued glaring, still not responding. If he is so dense to the point of being unable to grasp the fact that I am not fucking interested and that people are able to live fulfilling lives without having to believe in some supernatural power, I am not going to dignify him with a response.

Mister Surgeon eventually threw his hands into the air and momentarily exeunted. However, he returned to the scene a coupla’ minutes later with the following conclusion – “I shouldn’t try to push God to you. You will end up becoming very angry with God. But I just know that in the future, one day – you WILL go to God!”

Whatever.

Very nice try at self-convincing, Mister Surgeon. But sorry, you are still in denial of the fact that people do not need to have a religion to be happy.

And what’s with all that hogwash about “being angry with God”? If there is a God, I doubt there will be anything wrong with him. There are those who fervently subscribe to their religions, knowing exactly what it entails. But deluded followers like you, Mister Surgeon, is WHAT’S WRONG.

Attributing my (lack of) religion as a reason to why my health is deteriorating when YOU are a medical specialist?! Oh, come on. You have more than 50 years in the medical field. What is your excuse for coming up with something as baseless and insensitive as that?

That is honestly, stepping over the line, not to mention the height of unprofessionalism. In fact, this goes against the Code of Medical Ethics.

A physician shall treat patients as equals and not allow race, religion, political views or social status to have any effect on his actions towards them.

As a surgeon, specialist or any kind of medical doctor, thou shall respect thy patients’ right to choice, as well as their personal space and privacy. The relationship is to be maintained strictly at a professional level so as to avoid any conflicts of interest.

Introducing elements such as religion into the picture – especially Mister Surgeon’s pushy attempts at imposing his religion upon yours’ truly (despite my attempts at refusal) – is quite obviously, out of self-interest and basically shatters what’s remaining of the trust and mutual respect in the relationship.

In fact – based on feedback from my followers on Twitter and comments on my Facebook Profile – I have a substantial enough case to lodge a report with the hospital administration, which I won’t because I just can’t be arsed to.

I don’t care if you gained your medical degree in 1966 (with more than 40 years of experience under your belt). I don’t give a fuck if you have been accepted as a fellowship for some Surgeon’s society in 1970 (which is still, way before I was born). With EQ like that, you shouldn’t even become a doctor to begin with, let alone a surgeon.

I’m never stepping into your clinic again, that is for sure. You do not have my respect and my trust, and you never will. You may be educationally qualified but you’re scum in my eyes, as far as today goes.

How I wish I’ve gotten over the initial shock at the situation so I could have better articulated to Mister Surgeon exactly what I thought of him on the spot, and my distaste towards his actions.