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Does your pdoc SUCK?


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I figured I'd start a thread for all of those who HATE (or dislike) their pdocs. What reasons do you have for thinking they suck? Why are you still seeing them, or did you give them the boot? Rant away!

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I had one (no longer) who required that my mom come back with me on the first visit even though I was twenty and even though my mom told him that she was confident that I would be honest and explain what was going on...and that if anything, I might be more honest to tell him the truth if she came. I gave my mom major thanks for that attempt, but he still required her to come back.

It wasn't ever the best of relationships, but it was only for a short period of time, fortunately.

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I saw one a few years back because the GP made me. I haven't had a full blood test since like 13 (if not younger). I've a horrible fear of needles, finally randomly found out at the gyn that if I take a benzo - I can sit through a blood test. Got myself a GP and I was SO excited! I could finally have the pile of tests I've avoided most of my life because you weren't getting me to do anything that involved a needle. Had a consult and explained the whole mess to the GP, the medical history that I hadn't been able to follow up on, the recent discovery that I sit through a blood test with a little help - and asked about making an appointment for a full physical and getting a script for blood work and like one xanax or whatever.

She told me that I had emotional issues, and wouldn't give me the stupid benzo. Instead wrote me a script for blood work and a therapist and told me I'd have to go see a pdoc if I wanted a benzo. Makes me cry over lecture at how emotionally fucked up I am to come looking for a benzo to have a blood test.


Fine. Made an appointment with a pdoc. Explained the mess to the pdoc, and that the GP sent me over. The pdoc says that's dumb. The GP should have given you the medication, and he's not giving it to me because she should have done so. Finally says that he wants to do an evaluation on me.

I ask if I do the evaluation, can I have the stupid pill so I can get the blood test? Yes, he says.

Come back for the evaluation, which in itself was retarted. He's asking me things that I either don't understand or he's asking me questions that I do understand and I'm answering him, and he's not understanding my answers and is look at me like I'm speaking Greek. Tells me I have communication problems. I DID NOT HAVE COMMUNICATION PROBLEMS. I was expressing myself to the rest of the world just fine. Since I have insomnia, he gives me a script for a anti-histamine. Umm.. ok. Tells me I'm bipolar, and I have to treat the bipolar before anything else. Tells me that in order to treat the bipolar, I have to go get blood work.

Ok, blood work is all I wanted in the first fucking place. If that's the case then now can I have a benzo?

No. No?!?!?!

No, he says. I'm going to just have to find a way to go have the blood test without it.

(as if I had never tried that before in the previous decade)

That would be when I started crying again.

Fucking man knew within 5 minutes of me walking into the office that the whole problem is that I can't have blood drawn! What kind of fucked up logic is it to give me another script for fucking blood work!?

I told him that I already knew I was bipolar and thanked him for nothing.

Refused to walk into any doctors office besides my gyn for the next two-three years. Was too annoyed.

Sad part, this was four years ago. I was fairly stable, but wasn't totally opposed to going on medication. It just wasn't my priority. Checking my blood was my priority. Doing something about my heart problem was my priority. Had I seen a pdoc with some kind of sense, I might have went on meds four years ago.

Instead, I'm here. Fucking doctors.

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Whhhooopeeee! My turn!

First pdoc I saw sucked. Why? I was 17, had left home, knew something was wrong with me, went to pdoc of my own accord. After talking to me some and having me takes some tests, he proclaims I am "manic depressive". Uhm, OK. Sounds about right to me based on what I had been living with. He Rxed lithium+prozac. Great, wonderful. These pills will make me feel better. I started taking them (this was before I researched everything like I do now) and I really think it might have helped a little. Then I started to get curious about all this med stuff and I read that lithium requires regular blood tests? Wha? Dr. never mentioned a thing about it. When I aksed him, he replied that "I didn't really have to worry about it." Whao... I should have run screaming at that moment but didn't. Kept taking the lith, developed a tremor in my hands. Reported it only because I thought pdoc should know, not because it was enough to make me want to quit. But he dropped the lith and prozac immediately and Rxed me tegretol+paxil. I tried that for awhile and again, I think it may have been doing some positive things. Then through the course of my treatment with him various things gave me pause. I eventually got the idea this guy might be a quack and quit going.

Didn't see another pdoc until around 29. He was OK. I saw him for a few months and that's when he told me he was leaving the office but So-n-so was taking on his patients. Uh, OK. She was OK I guess. Didn't make any real progress with her but there were no outstanding reasons to say she sucked.

Then I quit my job, lost health coverage, went off meds. Didn't see another pdoc until last year. She's the one that I think ramps up meds a little too high, too fast or doesn't give a med a fair trial. I don't really have a great rapport with her but since it usually takes up to three months to get an appt. with a new pdoc, I figure I'll just stay with her.... until she starts cancelling appts. Uh, I'm suffering here and everytime she cancels, it takes a month to get another appt. I'm not at a point in my treatment where I can wait more than a month between appts. I get sick of it all and ask if I can be seen by a different pdoc in the office. They schedule me with this other guy for his first available. That day comes and I get a call that morning that he has to cancel. FUUUUUUUUCK THIS SHIT! I reschedule for his next available appt. which is 3 weeks away.

So, while I'm waiting for my appt with him... I start seriously thinking this office has some issues and I might be better off shopping around for a new pdoc, not in this office. I call around and it's a total clusterfuck, as I've detailed in past posts... as well as most of the shit I'm ranting about in this post. Sorry folks. ;) I finally get an appt. with one that sounds hopeful after I grill the office staff about the office practices there.

I figure it'll be a good thing for the new pdoc to have my records from the old place on my eval with her. I call over to my current pdoc office and ask to have the records sent over. Apparenlty I didn't have a release on file. Thought I had a signed one on file but I guess not. I ask if they can mail me the release form, I'll sign it and mail it back. It's a 30 minute drive and I don't have a fax machine. She tells me she doesn't like to mail them. OH SERIOUSLY, FUCK ME SIDEWAYS ALREADY WHY DO THEY MAKE EVERYTHING SUCH A PIA!

She tells me she can have them ready for me to pick up the day of my appt. with the new pdoc and I can come in, sign the release form and they'll be released directly to me. I told her I was apprehensive about doing this THE DAY of my appt. with the other Dr. because it's been my experience that something, somehow will get screwed up. She takes offense to this and proclaims that she never messes up on her job. I tell her it isn't about her, that it's my luck (and it is) that something will go wrong. Like, the records may get misplaced... something stupid like that. Happens to me all. the. time. But after going back and forth with her it seems that's my only option if I don't want to make a special trip just to take care of this. *sigh*

Then....then, she has the balls to ask me why I feel like I need to find a new Dr. I tell her all of the things I've told you guys in this post. She thinks she's going to set me straight or something... like I have no reason to be dissatisfied with that office or the doctors in it. Wrong answer. I'm still jacked up from the "debate". Which is probably why I've written this ridiculous rambling post.

Again, sorry folks.

But in a nutshell. I really haven't seen a pdoc yet that was all that great.

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My first ever pdoc sucked.

- He was blunt and insisted I recount traumatic memories, and then dismissed them when I couldn't talk about it.

- Diagnosed me with Agoraphobia, even though I have no issues leaving the house

- Raised my medication to double the therapeutic dose, then didn't change it even though I had unbearable side effects

My tdoc was pretty annoyed, and my next pdoc said she had no idea how he managed to misdiagnose me so much.

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Didn't see another pdoc until around 29.

I'm glad that you went back beetle, you'll find someone and something that works.

((gets out soapbox))


Personal Pdoc Pet Peeve (PPPP): When BAD PDOCS HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE AND SCARE THEM AWAY FOR YEARS OR LIFETIMES FROM GETTING HELP when they're suffering and confused and lost and blaming themselves.

It pisses me off. I'm not easy to piss off. It takes a LOT to get me actually truly angry.

I've heard about it here SOsoso many times.

I have a really close friend who keeps fucking herself over and making the same big mistakes and bad choices because she's never gotten good help. Years of never staying on meds or getting the right ones or being really hurt or belittled or not taken seriously (she hides behind her bubbly actress personality. it doesn't mean she's not in pain.) She's definetly in the BP spectrum (I've known her since age 8 or so) and has been seeing bad, irresponsible GPs who don't know what they're messing with since age 14 or so.

Well it's almost 8 years later and she's not any better off than at 14, in fact now she thinks that she's fundamentally unfixable and untreatable and flawed. She's been going to these people for 8 years, if she was fixable she wouldn't be worse off now than then 'right Meg?'-- but there's nothing I can say to convince her otherwise. She's been building up that belief for all of her teen and adult life.

She's tried suicide twice in the past year when she has such treatable problems.

It HURTS TO WATCH and makes me want to scream sometimes that she can't get help and is really, really put off by meds and pdocs and therapy and everything because of bad experiences.

I also have a hard time being friends with her or being a good friend to her sometimes because I get sucked into her emotional and life chaos and can't do anything about it and it kills me and is so draining that I need to look out for myself.

((steps off soapbox))

She thinks she's going to set me straight or something... like I have no reason to be dissatisfied with that office or the doctors in it. Wrong answer. I'm still jacked up from the "debate". Which is probably why I've written this ridiculous rambling post.

You're allowed to be totally PO'd. We're here for the rants (I'll match ya one for one, k?).

And maybe the tramp (love that word.) at the front desk will try and prove you wrong by having your records all ready and perfect because her office is perfect and so is she. Maybe this "I'll show YOU, how dare you talk about my office that way" campaign of hers can work in your favor?

At least paper-work-wise, if not blood-pressure-wise :)

goodluck beetle. deep breaths. ;)


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I love my current pDoc actually. But my past two were horrible! It seems they were either wanting me drugged up the wazzoo or being rude to me.

The first previous one straight up told me she didn't know if she could trust that I wanted to get better in our first appointment. After that, it was more of the untrusting sheet and when I told her I am not good on prozac because it causes suicidal thoughts she totally ignored me and prescribed it. I called the office to try to get in touch with her about my medicines one time and to find out she doesn't answer her phones or emails--intentionally . It's like she NEEDS to suck your flucking money out of you. Stupid .....BEACH! Whenever she found out I was seeing other doctors for their opinions she got mad (even told my doctors she was pissed) and every time I see her (its Kaiser so the pdocs all are in the same building) she has this mad look on her face. Talk about unprofessional!

The second previous pdoc (who was out of Kaiser) never listened to me either. I was with her for almost a year until leaving; she had prescribed effexor xr for anxiety :/ and whenever I'd say that to other pdocs they would be confused. I am assuming she thought I was depressed even though I wasn't. And whenever I'd have non-epileptic seizures she only told me "take more xanax" even when I told her many times that it just makes me a shaking zombie! She never thought once about taking me off of either of the medications only about UPing it (seriously they weren't working, why try to make it work?!). Oh and the withdrawal. Seriously, I can't blame her for withdrawal symptoms but I can blame her for diagnosing me wrong to put me on those horrible medications. :) She is so quick to give medication too -- she basically said "want help concentrating?" to my little brother BAM he gets ADD meds... But he doesn't have that he just has a distracting (&previously abusive) home environment. She doesn't listen to him! I get mad thinking about this.

It's fun to rant isn't it! ;)

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The very first p-doc I went to was when I was in college, and he told me that I just missed my boyfriend, and to snap out of it.

Second p-doc I saw made the diagnosis of depression, put me on Prozac, and I promptly had a *fabulous* time buying clothes and drugs and screwing around. He also actually felt all the LSD I was taking at the time was therapeutic. He then realized he couldn't figure out what to do with me, and tried to put me in group therapy, which consisted of 4 middle-aged women, all morbidly obese, married to gay men. I was "standard" sized (as in, on the insurance charts, oh how things have changed), an unmarried 24 year-old woman, dating straight men. I got the distinct impression I was just a billable hour to him. All this while I was manic. So I quit.

My neurologist referred me to someone else, who promptly made me toxic on Lithium.

The next p-doc I saw more or less for the following 15 years. He is a colleague of my dad's and they did a lot of research together (they are interested brain injury and mood disorders). Anyway, he and my dad, while they worked together, were hostile and competetive. My treatment was very good, and I never felt that my p-doc took advantage of the situation, but it was clear he didn't like my dad, so that added some nuance to the situation. But he also is the one who finally pointed out to me that my mother has BPD (he knew her, of course), which explained so much, and made a lot of my life suddenly come into focus.

In law school, I saw a very nice p-doc, who was more interested in a therapeutic approach (as well as meds). I am not big on therapy, and had managed to weasel my way out of it until then, but I did like this one woman. And she helped me realize that the way I had been treated as a child was abusive.

It sounds so depressing when I say "Oh, and he helped me realize my mother is insane, and she helped me realize my dad abused me!" But it actually was tremendously liberating, a feeling of, "Yes, yes, yes, things were truly f'ed up (sorry, don't remember if we are allowed to swear on here), it wasn't just me!"

Then I moved to the other side of the country, to follow my husband to his new job. And I was lucky, and didn't have any episodes for 4 years, but stupidly never established contact with a p-doc. That changed two years ago when I had the joy of being in a mixed state during a familial crisis. It took me 6 weeks to get my first p-doc appointment, since I was a new patient. So my p-doc never actually saw me in my mixed state, but my dad diagnosed it (which I know means it "ethically" doesn't count).

I am right in the midst of a mixed state right now. My. very. favorite. Plus, right now, my p-doc is out of town, on an open-ended familial crisis of his own. And don't get me wrong, I wish him and his family the best. But WAAAAH! I need help! And he is going to miss seeing this episode, too. He thinks I over-react to small changes in my mood, but he doesn't realize how well I maintained I had been: after having it take 14 years to get my mood balanced, then finally being totally stable for close to a decade (well, over 8 years....), I do *not* want to risk returning to that level of instability, even if it makes me look like a wuss.

So, I call him as soon as I feel *anything* is up. And that is usually because my husband has said something about it (he is an epilepsy patient, we are good at saying unpleasant things to each other). Because I do not feel like returning to rapid cycling (which I did until about 1998, and am *just* short of since 2006, 3 epis a year, not 4), just because it might bug him if I leave a message. I went through too much hell to get to even this point to risk it over proving my "street creds" to a new p-doc.

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Yeah, Doctor Pee sucks.

(that's her actual initial, haha and it's a Polish name - hard to pronouce)

She makes me feel insignificant. Worthless. I feel lost in her company. The very essence of her isss suckish.

I gave myself the boot. Checked myself out of CAMHS. It's complicated and shitty and I don't have time.

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The first real pdoc I saw sucked really bad. I was seriously manic and having delusions that every helicopter overhead was the FBI spying on me. I'd have to pull over in my car, see if the helicopter went on, and finish having my panic attack. This made getting to work very time consuming, if you can imagine, because I live in a large city. I also had delusions that every car, especially vans, pulling onto my street were people spying on me, and that parked cars held people crouching down waiting for me to leave. I also wouldn't let my husband take out the trash for fear people would steal it.

Naturally, I was in a highly anxious and agitated state. This pdoc prescribed me one thing and one thing only: lots of lexapro.

Two weeks later, I'm even worse off. My co-workers think I have seriously went off the deep end. I go see him. He doubles my lexapro. The pharmacy refuses to fill it. They educate me about Serotonin Syndrome and how too much SSRI leads to a bad ending.

I confront bad pdoc with this OD information. He just gives me samples to make up for what the pharmacy won't fill and writes a new prescription, telling me I'll be fine. I tell him I'm not "fine" and leave.

I go to work and sob to the benefits lady at my work (I worked in HR) so she gets on the phone with the health insurance company, and BAM! I got an appointment with a new pdoc in 24 hours through the patient advocate.

He was my diagnosing physician, and I kept seeing him until he left my insurance plan.

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That is great for you Gizmo, only the poor unfortunates that are stuck with a mental health center have no choice. Mine that I changed from was an anal retentive bitch that resented any suggestion I had because I was a nurse. I have changed and the first visit, he was nice, but not sure if he is not dumb as a rock. Besides doctors, mental health centers are basically worthless. I went to a counselor on call and she was totally worthless. TOTALLY! She just kept asking me why I was there and what I wanted them to do for me. Duh, after I told her over and over. Sucks!

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I'm not overly thrilled with the pdoc I have now. He's very much a "maintenance" pdoc. Our appointments consist of "how are you feeling?" "are your meds working?" If say that I'm not doing very well, or I don't think my meds are working as well as why should and explain what's going on, he says, "what do you think we should do?"

If I knew what to do, I'd be the one with the medical degree. ;)

He also schedules his appointments four months apart - that's a month later than my scripts run out... I dunno why he does that.

Unfortunately, he's the only game in town - I see him through the local mental health clinic, and he's the only pdoc there. The nearest pdoc other than him is an hour's drive from here and twice as expensive. I guess he's okay because I do get my meds through him...

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That is great for you Gizmo, only the poor unfortunates that are stuck with a mental health center have no choice.

But you didn't ask the $64,000 question: did I ever have a mental health center doctor? The answer is yes, I was once without insurance and without funds and qualified (basically by having a mixed state meltdown in the person's office who qualifies you for the program) for care through a no-cost, state-run mental health program. I got minimal care for no money. I got put on abilify, twice, even though I get akathesia on it. All my meds, except for xanax, were changed and rearranged. I saw a different pnurse every couple of weeks and a different pdoc every month. It was the most chaotic mental health experience I've had. But I wouldn't say any of them sucked, they just didn't see me enough to know anything about me or how to treat me.

But I was incredibly grateful for the free medication. That was like gold, because otherwise, I would have went unmedicated, and that would have been bad for everyone.

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I've only had two pdocs and one of them I only saw once.

The first one I saw was after I wrote my therapist a note detailing everything that was going on...I had a bad habit of telling her everything was fine and I just lied as soon as I went through the door. She rang me up the next day and told me I had to see a psychiatrist sooner rather than later. Next day I had to go in and see a lovely lady doctor, she assessed me and said I had a psychotic disorder. I was quite comfortable telling her everything she reminded me of Kate Bush (Not that I've met Kate Bush!) I had to go back on the Monday I saw her on a Thursday and to my surprise it was another doctor.

She had a family crisis or something so she got someone to take over. Now I have this Scottish man who I don't really like. He's a very matter-of-fact-doctor-knows-best kinda' guy. I'm not really happy to tell him things and there's still some things I have to tell him. He's also very tight about giving out prescriptions. I'm currently taking 4 drugs and he wouldn't give me something for depression because he thinks I was on too much medication so he gave me the option to swap something I was taking for an anti-depressant which I regrettably didn't do. I was also a bit pissed off that he had made me choose. The only thing that makes him bearable is that he's a pleasant and polite man. He's forgetful and generally I don't think he's very good at his job. He'll prescribe something for you and you won't know what it is until you get it from your GP. ( He has to write a note to your GP) So side-effects don't get mentioned and if you have any other reason why you shouldn't take it he doesn't even ask.

I turned that into a bit of a rant...Sorry I'm a bit pissed off with him.

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I have 2 pdocs I'm not particularly thrilled with.

One is the first pdoc I saw through the county. He was a self-absorbed knowitall jerk who wouldn't even let e get a word in edgewise. Just last year he was assigned to be my pdoc at the hospital I went to and I had that changed lickety-split.

the next one is my current one. Granted, We have a six year history and we have tried everything under the sun. Thing is, he doesn't even try. I just tell him how I'm feeling and he gives me refills. Once he admitted me into the hospital. He also did my ECT treatments.

This new pdoc I'm seeing is taking a big risk by switching my AD. I appreciate that. and she makes me part of the process, instead of excluding me and telling me how it is.

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""He was a self-absorbed knowitall jerk who wouldn't even let e get a word in edgewise. Just last year he was assigned to be my pdoc at the hospital I went to and I had that changed lickety-split.""

You are lucky you were able to change. I had one like that in a mental health prison, it was like prison, and they would not let you change. Because you are the crazy one. He never had any facial expressions, just totally flat and he was mean as hell. He just told me I was going to die. He was terrible. Some are total assholes and then others are just airheads it seems. Or passive aggressive.

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