18 Shocked Patients Reveal The Most Unprofessional Thing A Doctor Ever Said To Them

Fail.

"I went in for my yearly physical for my life insurance and they took my blood pressure... which is usually perfect. The nurse takes it and says, 'Well that can't be right.' She proceeds to take it again on my other arm. She then blurts out, 'Your blood pressure is really, really bad... like you could have a heart attack any day. You really should go get that looked at. You could die.' She looked like she was going to pass out.

Of course I freaked out and went to another doctor for a second opinion. The doctor takes my blood pressure and reassures me that there's nothing wrong. They listen to my heart etc. Nothing is wrong. The nurse either didn't calibrate her machine correctly, or didn't take my blood pressure correctly. Wasted time, money, and heartache."






What An Idiot.

'"You are an idiot. No one has ever had a disease like you are describing.' Precisely those words.

No. But I am an adult with Aspergers/High Functioning Autism. And a medical student. And someone who needed help. I went to another doctor.

Guess what? I did, in fact have Lyme Disease (CDC positive) and Mast Cell Activation Disorder, which can result from an acute Lyme infection. After my diagnosis and hospital stay, I sent the b---h ALL of my test results and hospital records and a lovely little letter from my specialist - a letter that suggested that she 'further her education,' 'renew her studies' and 'work on her bedside manner.' He did not call her an idiot but he certainly suggested it."




The Last Straw.

"Shortly after I met the now-über-hub, I mentioned that I needed a new general practitioner. I've had terrible luck with doctors over the years. Between being told my general aches & pains are all in my head, fibromyalgia isn't a real thing, hearing I probably had leukemia and waiting a week for the results of a spinal tap...docs aren't my favorite. The UH recommended his GP, of whom he had been a patient for many years.

Dr. Nguyen is a very soft-spoken man around my age (maybe?? He could actually be five years younger or 15 years older. Hard to tell). The comments started gradually - he might compliment my outfit or a new hairstyle. Then it was about my weight - 'You are obviously wearing your weight well. You are well within the optimal BMI and you look like it.' Um, okay?

Finally, during my last visit with him, he decided I needed a breast exam for lumps. He obviously enjoyed that process WAY too much. When he said, 'You have very nice breasts' ...that was the last straw. I've been to two other GPs since then and don't like either one. The search continues..."







Absolutely Humiliating.

"I used to suffer a severe disease in my skin. I'm allergic to my own sweat, and I was very hairy. So when the sweat reacted with my skin, it formed some horrible sores in my skin. The most affected parts were my butt, groin and armpits. These were like flesh wounds, so I went to a dermatologist to treat this thing.

I had the appointment at 11:30, I got there a bit late, about at 11:45 because of traffic. I got there and his assistant announced me. The guy was with another patient, so I waited. His assistant called me about at 12:45, so I got into his office.

There it starts the most humiliating thing a doctor has ever done to me. He asked me to tell him quickly about my sickness. I told him about it and he told, 'Well show me that s--t. I'm starving and want leave here quickly.'

As I pulled down my pants and underwear, and show him my horrible sores he yells as loudly as he could, 'That's f--king gross! Put your pants back on, you just ruined my lunch!'

I can bet half of the building could hear him. His diagnosis was poor hygiene and his medication was, 'Wash your parts and use a soft soap.'

After this, I went to a serious dermatologist and he gave some creams and medicine to cure this. He explained to me how I was reacting with my own sweat and how to end this. Thankfully in less than a month, this was completely cured, though my skin still reacts when I sweat a lot, and starts itching.

But that stupid doctor crippled my whole self esteem at the moment. I had to be convinced to visit another specialist to cure this. I didn't want to see another dermatologist at that moment.

Horrible, unprofessional, humiliating."



Completely Inexcusable.

"One year, my 'friend' decided it would be a great idea for him and 6 of his friends to sexually assault me. For weeks after, I told no one, until I began feeling very sick. I went to see my nurse practitioner, who informed me that I was pregnant, and had an infection. I told her part of what had happened, feeling ashamed and afraid, and she referred me to San Francisco General hospital. I went, and a month or so before my due date, I was admitted to be tested for preeclampsia, due to pregnancy-induced hypertension.

While in the hospital, one of the residents came in to talk to me. Her first question: 'Did you enjoy it, all the attention from those guys?' Me: 'What? Which guys?' Her: 'The guys you had sex with that you say raped you.'

I waited until she left to cry."




This Man Needs To Be Reported!

"My biological mother's doctor was a quack, guilty of more malpractice in just a couple of years than I've seen over the rest of my lifetime thus far (I used to work for a medical malpractice claims company, so I know whereof I speak). My mother made me go to this man, even as a young child. I knew he was experimenting on several of his patients because I overheard his conversations. I was ten years old and already reading medical texts that were required reading for first year residents.

My mother was extremely abusive in almost every way, that is, when she wasn't MIA for days at a time. She was diagnosed with schizophrenia, as well as with being a true psychopath. She didn't want to be responsible for me, because I was an 'accident' as well as having several serious medical issues she told the doctors she wasn't going to acknowledge or let them treat.

So, Doctor Quack has me in his office and I'm trying to make sure he doesn't touch me inappropriately as he regularly did to other young girls. I'm also doubled over in severe pain at that point, because of Crohn's Disease. He looked me straight in the eye and said, 'If you weren't so mean to your mother, you wouldn't be in pain. I'm not going to do anything for your pain because you don't deserve relief.'

Mean? You've got to be kidding! I spent my first 17 years on this rock trying to take of her, despite the abuses she heaped upon me -- most of which are far too heinous to share. Dr. Quack also allowed a dear friend of mine to die a very horrible death from colon cancer, because he felt the man didn't feed his bank accounts enough.

I wish him the absolute WORST, most excruciating death possible. Some things just cannot be transcended."




How Dare He?!

'We need to get you started on birth control,' said Dr. B. the man who'd delivered my baby. I had not wanted to see him, ever again, since he'd been rude during the hellacious delivery. It ended in a C section (delayed because he had been at a medical malpractice seminar while I writhed in pain). But Dr. B. had insisted I bring Jacob in for a one-week check-up, even though Dr. B. wasn't my son's pediatrician. Nor was he my gynecologist.

'Why are you asking me about birth control?' I said. 'I never asked you about that. I don't want to discuss that with you.'

'I know about your birth control failure,' he said.

'What? What are you talking about?'

To my horror, he pointed at our beautiful little baby. Our much-planned, beloved, healthy, eagerly awaited baby.

'My son is not a mistake!' I said. I was so angry. I scooped up my son, slammed the office door, and told the receptionist, 'I am never coming back again. Your boss is a jerk.' She was, by the way, his daughter. I felt pity for her."



Can't Miss A Chance To Crack A Joke.

"I heard this story from a doctor friend of mine. The kid was doing Parkour. He tried to do some kind of flip but landed on his head. He started bleeding internally and needed emergency surgery. The surgery went well. They called my doctor friend to make sure his mental status hadn't been too affected. It looked like he was going to be all right from the chart review, so, as soon as the doc introduced himself he said:

'So, let me get this straight: you were trying to do a flip, but instead it was a flop?'

The girlfriend, who was at the bedside shot him a very dirty look. My doctor friend swears there were literal lightning bolts coming out of her eyes. The patient himself was amused."




What An Irresponsible Jerk.

"A doctor's statement nearly cost me my life.

When I was 15 years old I was a scuba diver together with my father. On my 25th dive my club was in Spain for the summer holidays and boy oh boy was I excited to dive in warmer waters, clear waters, and actually see all the life I hadn't seen before. The first dive there was great!!! Absolutely amazing. The second.... Not so amazing.

As we were returning to the surface, when I reached the 5 meter threshold for some reason my arms didn't work anymore so I couldn't control my ascending speed. Once I reached the surface I couldn't pump up my jacket to keep me afloat. My body was not working properly. I screamed for help and they took me back to the boat as I couldn't even swim myself anymore. At some point I blacked out. I woke up on the bed of the boat, sore all over but my body seemed to function again, until we reached the shore. I took 3 steps and collapsed, my body no longer under my control. Partially cramping up, partially floppy like a wet cloth. Hyperventilating. My heart beating out of control.

The chair of our diving club was a doctor and since it was his house they called for his help before rushing me off to the hospital. He said, 'Don't worry, she has passive panic. She's exaggerating. Women aren't meant to be diving, they can't handle it.' Then he force-fed me vodka and muscle relaxers... While I was 15 years old. Because of him, no one rushed me to the nearest hospital. They just thought I was a dramatic teen.

I received the right treatment after 48 hours but that was far too late, the nerves in my spine were dead. Had I received this treatment within 2 hours my body would have been healthy again almost instantly. Now I spent 6 months in a wheelchair, I had to use a rolling walker for another year and a other 6 months I used crutches. And I got off the hook easily since when I had my first hospital visit in my own country my doctor there said (when I proudly showed him I could take 3 ridiculous looking steps): 'Don't you think it will ever get any better than this. You will stay in a wheelchair for the rest of your life.'

Oh and he blocked my every effort to be a part of an experimental treatment in a different hospital OR physical therapy since he felt it was no use. That place was better suited for someone where there is still hope. So I asked my parents to go out and rent me anything they could find to I could try to do physical therapy myself."



Just Need To Toughen Up.

"In high school I was never one to get sick, and rarely ever had even a common cold. I was a multi-sport athlete in top physical condition, and had a very high threshold for pain. Yet in my senior year I spent a couple weeks with a sore throat that wouldn't go away. Every time I swallowed - even normal saliva - it felt like I was trying to swallow a porcupine holding an open umbrella... backwards.

We went to our regular family ENT doctor and he ran the normal cultures for strep and other things, and nothing showed up. Granted, this was Alabama in the '90s, and medical science was a little lacking. But it culminated a few days later when I could barely swallow without writhing in visible pain, so we went back to the family ENT doc. Our regular guy was on vacation, so we saw his substitute for the week. After looking into my throat quickly, he told me, 'Boy, you need to grab yourself by your bootstraps and toughen up!' and sent me away like I was a wuss with a sore throat.

Fast forward about 10 hours later, and I wake up in the middle of the night, unable to swallow and barely able to breathe. We rush to the ER, where I get an emergency tonsillectomy due to a severe tonsil infection that had nearly swollen my throat shut and nearly killed me. Not only was it bad enough tonsillitis that it required emergency surgery, but they were so bad that they couldn't use traditional surgery methods, instead having to dislocate my jaw and cut by hand, and then stitching up the huge wounds. The tonsils they removed were so large that they couldn't use the standard specimen jars they used for tonsils. The same substitute doctor was there, and said that everything would be fine and that I could eat solid food again whenever my body told me it was the right time again. Why we listened to him? I have no idea. That was a Thursday.

Saturday morning, I felt fine, and was hungry as hell. So I went out for a McDonald's breakfast biscuit. I felt something loose and tickling in my throat, and plucked at it a bit but gave up soon after. Later that night, I woke up in what I thought was a cold sweat, but it turned out to be a bed covered in blood. Apparently that tickle in my throat was opening stitches, and a clot that I apparently dislodged, and nearly bled out.

I was rushed back to the ER, where they pumped my stomach out from being full of blood I'd been swallowing all day, and I got a transfusion for the few pints I was missing internally. Re-dislocate my jaw, staple my flingy throat thing to the top of my throat, then re-stitch everything. 7 days later, I was finally able to eat solid food again, having lost nearly 25% of my body weight and much of my natural blood. Wish I had just toughened up some more..."




Shocking!

"I once got one of those allergy tests, where they draw a matrix on your back and prick you with all sorts of allergens. Then you wait 20 minutes and the doctor measures each allergic reaction and tells you what to avoid. Nature wise, I've always had horrible allergies, so I was pretty sure the results would be ugly.

After waiting, the doctor came back in and my back was towards him as he entered, which he saw and immediately blurted out ,'Holy s--t' in response to how bad all my reactions were.

Not crazy unprofessional, but even I laughed at how unexpected that reaction was. And yes I was allergic to basically everything and most of the reactions had spread into each other. The chart where they draw what it all looked like with circles was quite comical. Oh, but I wasn't allergic to horses or something random like that. So, ya know, thank god for that."




Give Him A Dose Of His Own Medicine.

"Well the most unprofessional thing a doctor did to me was misdiagnosing me as schizophrenia (when I had depression), giving me high potency anti psychotics (when I needed none) and then not even following the confidentiality rule and telling it to everyone he knew.

It affected me in an adverse way for a while. Then I found out that I don't even have the g-ddamn illness. When I told him I am depressed, he would say things like, 'You know, you are just not satisfied with yourself, that's why.'

That is why I decided to do my MD in psychiatry to teach this guy a lesson or two. I could have sued him for breaking the confidentiality code, but didn't think it was worth all the effort.

Now when I see him at conferences, I just look through him as if he doesn't exist. And of course he is red-faced when he sees me, because I have given him a dose of his own medicine by circulating this story everywhere."




Thank You…?

"It's not so much unprofessional as it was mortifyingly funny at the moment.

So I had gone for a lower abdomen ultrasound and had just changed my Radiologist. So there I am lying down, all lubed up, with my bladder ready to burst. After the usual chit chat, the doctor points to my uterus on his screen to his junior assistant and starts talking about my ovaries. He says, 'Just look at her ovaries, these are the most beautiful ovaries I have ever seen. They never show up so clearly on the screen.'

He is the only one I go to for an ultrasound now. I like a doctor who has an artistic appreciation of my ovaries."





Who Doesn't Value Their Face?

"My doctor surgically removed a large, infected cyst from the middle of my right facial cheek when I was 27.

Even though he had used an anesthetic, I could both hear and feel the incision. The cyst he showed me was the size of a marble. Half my face was swollen like a balloon. The doctor had warned me that if the trigeminal nerve got damaged half my face would be permanently paralyzed and I would drool constantly from that side of my mouth. He said the surgery might leave a scar or a dent in my face. He had me well terrified.

As the doctor fixed the gauze and bandage over the stitched wound, he commented, 'Well, it's a good thing you're not a model or a film star or anything.'

This remark was by far the most painful and alarming part of the operation. It sounded like he meant, 'It's lucky your face doesn't matter.'

When I told the nurse as I was leaving, she dismissed it cheerfully, saying, 'Oh, that's just his sense of humor.' Normally, I'm quick with witty comebacks, but on this occasion I was speechless."




A Twisted Sense Of Priorities.

"I had spent years trying every possible kind of hormonal contraception, every time with severe side effects including violent migraines. Upon learning about the migraines, my gynecologist immediately took me off the pill. I asked for a non-hormonal alternative, she just laughed and recommended condoms.

So I went to see another gynecologist who, although she was trained to insert a type of copper IUD that was specifically designed for women who had never had children, was reluctant to prescribe one to me, because she held the long since dismissed belief that it could make me sterile. She wanted to put me back on the pill, despite the severe headaches it had caused me, which were a sign of bad blood circulation in the brain and put me at risk for thrombosis.

So I asked her if she was really more comfortable prescribing to me something that could cause me deep vein thrombosis and kill me, rather than something that would, in the absolute worst case scenario, make me sterile.

She said she was.

I consider this unprofessional, because she was supposed to act in my best interest. And believe me, I would rather be alive and childless than dead. She ended up giving me the IUD anyway, but not without first trying to convince me that all men were evil, that I would be cheated on and get a disease, and that some men even gave their partners STDs on purpose, and that I shouldn't come and cry on her shoulder the day I discover that I can't have children.

It's now 5 years later, I have a new doctor, a new IUD, and no disease. And in case you're interested, all of this happened in Switzerland."




Dr. A-Hole.

"I had a check-up scheduled for our 2-year-old daughter, an only child, a lucky break in series of miscarriages. Our baby girl was decidedly in full throttle, test-the-limits mode of the typical two year old, and was not being cooperative to being examined.

The doctor's diagnosis: 'You need to have another child. This child is highly willful and needs a sibling to temper her stubbornness.'

Eye-blinking. Jaw agape. Stunned silence ... for a minute or two. Followed by my equally direct comeback, 'That is the stupidest reason to have another child I've ever heard!'

Needless to mention, the appointment finished with a markedly frosty atmosphere between the doctor annoyingly trying to explain to this dim-witted mother how to handle her child, while I was thin-lipped in my suggestion that the doctor was an a--hole.

Okay, maybe it wasn't a mere suggestion."





"Just Fat."

"I have a genetic connective tissue disorder called Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. EDS causes the body to make faulty collagen, so it's like being put together with bad glue. I've had a few encounters with doctors that have drifted into the unprofessional zone. The one I remember the most was before my diagnosis. I had back pain and a spinal specialist told me that I was 'just fat' and if I lost weight all of my problems would disappear. I would like to take my diagnosis report from U of Michigan and hold it up to his face and let him know just how wrong he was."



Taking Matters Into Your Own Hands.

"From my perspective, there were two possibilities:

1. Someone had laced all my food with razor blades

2. A gremlin had set up permanent residence in my digestive system

At least, that's what it felt like. All food I consumed either went straight through me or seemed to hide in some corner of my stomach for days. It was a result of over-the-counter treatment, I think. I self-dosed with Prevacid for years thinking it was a magic bullet for acid reflux. Wrong.

When I finally went to the doctor after a particularly crippling bout of acid, he saw me for 15 minutes, told me to stick a couple more pillows under my body when I slept, and prescribed me Omeprazole (which I later learned is basically double Prevacid). This was not the doctor who said unprofessional things. After all, he was just doing his job - treat the patient as quickly as possible. Diagnose the most likely cause. Administer the most likely solution.

I knew something was wrong the second I took the first pill. Racing to the bathroom, I threw myself at the mercy of the porcelain throne. I didn't throw up. I wish I could have.

The next six months are a blur. I had to sit on a pillow wherever I went because the back end (ahem) of my intestines was so sensitive. Food I put in my mouth turned into a nightmare once it reached my stomach. Every couple of weeks or so, I'd catch a crippling fever. I stopped eating simply because it hurt too much. I lost over 20 pounds (though I was already on the edge of underweight).

There were two visits to the emergency room during this time. On one of them, an x-ray specialist, told there wasn't much they could do for a stomach problem. This was not the doctor who said unprofessional things.

Finally, when I'd reached the point where it was a complete mystery which part of my body the food would exit and it what form, my wife made me see a specialist. The guy was going to be the best of the best, I thought.

He flipped through my paper work, asked me a couple more questions, and then said this:

'You're young. You're probably fine. This might just be something you have to live with.'

Thank God I am hard headed. Had I been any less stubborn, this man would have robbed me of any hope. I would have taken his word as gospel. After the cameras got stuck up my butt and down my throat with no conclusion to my condition, I would have resigned myself to a life of internal discomfort. INSTEAD.

I found new information. I changed my diet. I added more movement into my routine. I eliminated the over-the-counter garbage. It wasn't a magic bullet, but day by day, I felt better. Day by day, my condition improved. Day by day, I got my life back."

Source

 

Wow!