Another in a line of first world problems.


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<—    I had a doctor like this.  Once.  I don’t stay with bad doctors EVER.  I walked out the door when the doctor said HE would be the one to decide if my husband was going to be in the labor room — not me. That was over 45 years ago.

Then there was the time a doctor said I was constipated, but I knew that wasn’t the problem.  I had to find my own gastroenterologist. 

Three months later, GI had a diagnosis:  Gastroparesis.  I wrote a scathing letter about him to the company he worked for, explaining that his “diagnosis” (to eat more fibrous foods) could have killed me.

They gave me a new doctor but didn’t fire the bastard.

My endocrinologist is excellent, but he’s having back surgery.  He’ll be out of commission for a while.  The message from his office manager said that people need to go to their PCP to get medications refilled.  

This is bad news — for me.  He’s the only doctor I’ve seen for the past 2 years — except for my retinal specialist.

I called my PCP’s office and was told she had left 2 years ago.  Now, she’s working an hour away for a prestigious group of doctors.  I refuse to drive an hour just to get a refill.

Of all the first world problems I believed would be easiest to solve, finding a new Primary Care Provider (aka PCP) isn’t it.  Want to know what it’s like? Try finding the one marble in a junk pile 50 feet high (15.24 meters).  

I live in a small town, where the doctors graduated from Jamaica or South America.  I’ve been looking on-line and most of the doctors in my area have 1 star when it comes to

  1. Bedside manner, and
  2. knowledge.

Yes, they fall under this category:


Wish me luck.