We recently had a leak in the bathroom of our old house (the bathroom of our office from which I write this), and we called a plumber. He banged away while I worked, and he did a wonderful job.
Now, imagine if, before he came, and instead of minding my own business, I took it upon myself to learn all about plumbing, looked over his shoulder as he worked, and questioned his every move? Seems like kind of antisocial aberrant behavior, right?
Okay, now transplant this into the medical setting, the white coats and fancy equipment, the years and years of medical school, the scary and fancy jargon, DQ alpha, b.i.d, anovulatory, nuliparous, FSH, hcg, etc., etc., etc. Add to this my years of training to roll over and just-about-die for anything an esteemed doctor said. I lived in fear of ever displeasing one, a funny look in response to one of my questions was enough to shut me up, immediately.
For the longest time, I had medical problems that my doctors didn’t take seriously. A definable thyroid problem, for instance. It wasn’t until until I was trying to get pregnant, when another life was involved, that I started becoming more independent. I also ended up with a great endocrinologist who actually listened and took me seriously; he would change my dosage of my thyroid hormone based on how I felt (of course we’d do labs to back it up), but he took my word about being so sensitive that I could just “tell” when things were off (and I was always right, by the way).
Unfortunately, as good doctors often do, this man got a great job offer, and he’s not my doc anymore. I have a guy who seems like I can barely rouse him, but at least I know what I need and can try to get him to do what I need. It does seem a little backward–don’t we pay our doctors since they have all the years and years of medical training?–but essentially, your healthcare is a choice, and you have to remember, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. This is one of the first lessons I learned.
Most recently, our son was getting an IV. His doctor is one of the best, most detail-oriented people I have ever met (and by now, I have been around the block a few times). But even still, as she was making up the IV, I was craning my neck, thinking “could it be?” And finally I piped up– “Didn’t you say you were going to use X in the solution?” Some doctors might get defensive. She never does. And I was right. So whenever you get that roll-over urge of mine–DON’T! Ask questions. Be a pain. It’s your right because it’s your body that’s being worked on…and you’re paying for it.
There is another twist to the plumbing story: my mother bought us a new dishwasher, bless her heart, because our son has all these food allergies and our forty-year-old Kitchenaid wasn’t cutting the mustard, so to speak, any more. When the dishwasher was delivered, along with some plumbers contracted to install it, my husband and I immediately got a bad vibe. We kept telling ourselves, “It’s SEARS, they’re not going to hire some nincompoops,” but as they started working, we got more and more worried–they shut off all the house’s fuses instead just the one to the kitchen, and they later emerged to tell us, gravely, that since our house was so old, they would have to do this fancy gastric bypass type plumbing in order to install the machine. Oh, and it was going to cost a huge bundle.
It would have been “easier” to let them go ahead and do it, and pay for the consequences (financially and otherwise) later. Instead, we politely told them to get lost, and were stuck with the ugly insulation wrapped machine in the middle of our floor and a big gaping hole where the Kitchenaid used to be.
We called our usual plumber, and he came out. He toiled and toiled for hours, ended up having to do some fancy plumbing but NOT what the other ones claimed they’d have to do. He worked sincerely, and hard, and we were happy to pay him his small bundle. The dishwasher works beautifully. It was likely if we’d let those other guys do it, they would have shunted one of the outflows the easy way, not the difficult (but invisible once the machine was in) way our guy did.
Moral of the story: even with plumbing, it’s always better to know what’s going on, sticking your head into the process rather than sticking your head in the sand.
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