Appalling Arrogance

Well, I'm not truly appalled; it takes a lot for me to get there. But I am annoyed. I can kind of understand why some doctors are arrogant. If you are in the business of saving lives, I suppose it's hard not to take yourself so seriously. My primary care doctor doesn't (usually) come across that way, nor does my gynecologist. Other than those two, I'm hard-pressed to think of one (other than the few I know socially) who don't. My cardiologist, in particular, irritates me to no end. Fortunately, I don't have to spend much time with him.

This morning I had my second visit, which was my follow-up to the tests I'd had done. On my first visit he had railed about my doctor increasing my blood pressure medicine rather than giving me an additional one. He didn't just go on and on about it. He asked me why. How do I know? Am I a doctor? Today he did essentially the same thing (my tests have come back good so far, by the way), saying that I should not have had a heart cath while I was hospitalized and that the hospital should not have canceled my echocardiagram. I told him I was in the room with the "nurse navigator" (don't ask!) when she called his office to find out if I should still have the echo, and his staff had said no. Then when he checked my "cath hole", he said the other doctors had gone in too high. I said, "I'm not sure what you want me to say about any of this. I am not a doctor." Actually, when he said that the cath had gone in too high, I said, "I have no basis for comparison." He probably thinks I'm a real smart ass, but I don't care. I just think he's an ass.

He did concede that my dizziness and near-fainting were likely caused by the medicine he'd prescribed, so that's something. In a few weeks, I have to go get the echo that was canceled last week, and on the same day I have that done, I'll get the Holter (?) monitor. I'm not sure exactly what it's called, but it's a heart monitor I have to wear for twenty-four hours. The following week I'll have another excruciating appointment with him. My greatest hope is that these will be the last of the tests and everything will come back fine, and I'll never have to see him again. Of course, that won't explain the hoofbeats in my chest, but maybe I can learn to live with them.