I am one of those people who always has a story to tell. Once such story is why I avoid doctors at all costs. Unless I think I am about to die, it is almost impossible to get me to visit a doctor. There is a very good reason I avoid doctors, which I will elaborate on after this story.
On 17 March 2007, I forced myself to go to the doctor because I felt I needed an X-ray on my hand. I typed letters and even wrote part of this book against my better judgment. I nursed a badly bruised and sprained hand for at least a week’s time, although I was very grateful it wasn’t broken, as the X-rays proved.
I am not called Coyote for nothing. in fact, Wile E. of Road Runner fame and I are very similar: We are both very resourceful and scheming risk-takers and often end up hurting ourselves physically.
I have a punching bag in my office just in case I get the urge to get up and have a hit. The day I sprained my hand, I felt like having a go, so I donned my boxing gloves and started to work out with the bag. It feels so empowering when you train in martial arts and you know that your skills are finally coming together – it feels like a physical symphony! Each kick is orchestrated in a technique that is practiced over and over and over. Each punch is executed knowing that when you punch, your eyes never move from your contact, and you are covering yourself so that a return blow cannot hit its target -– your face.
Normally, I just have a kick and a punch without boxing gloves, but something that day made me put them on. I was really going for it with the punches and kicking. Then I started to practice my backhand fists, one of my most favoured moves in Taekwondo. A backhand fist is done by spinning around backwards at high speed and hitting the bag with a backhand. The bag is placed near the walls and wardrobes of my office, as there is not enough room to put it elsewhere.
Sometimes I wonder about my common sense. This was one of those times.
On this particular backhand, as I spinned around, I hit my hand on the metal rim of the wardrobe. The impact forced me to drop to the ground in pain. The force shocked me; I didn’t realise my own power. I felt similar pain when I broke my rib -- on that particular incident, I cried and laughed at the same time, as that was the only way I could cope with the pain.
Due to my misplaced target, my hand was bruised on the palm, around up to the top and it hurt like hell. I thank God that I had the boxing gloves on, because without them I would have shattered my hand for sure and even taken off some skin.
As it turned out, I had to force myself to go to a medical centre, as normally I cannot bear to waste my time with doctors these days. After a two-hour wait and an X-ray, I was sent home with a bandage and some anti-inflammatory cream. The pain was strong, and typing probably did not do me any good, but there again, I did say there was not much common sense in me sometimes.
There is a very good reason that I don’t like doctors. As you have already read, I lost Dr Brooks, the one doctor I did finally come to trust. Ten years before his death, I was due to return to a specialist who had operated on me to have stitches removed and a general follow-up to the surgery. I arrived at the surgery only to be told that the doctor had died that very morning in a car crash after delivering a baby in the early hours.
Since my early 20s, I have had more than 10 laparoscopies to treat endometriosis. I have had three colonoscopies; one CAT scan for a broken ribs; a cystoscopy; and numerous doctor visits. So, in 2006, I swore off doctors for good.
But here is the main reason: I have been sexually assaulted by two different doctors. Once, when I was only 19, a doctor made me strip and walk around the room in my high heels while fondling my nipples in a way which was clearly not meant for a medical examination.
I also made a formal complaint to detectives at North Sydney Police station many years ago because I was assaulted by another male doctor. I cannot bear to repeat the story here; I will only say that I was 26 and far too young to really deal with it. These days, if the same incident happened, I would certainly deal with it differently. At the time, I was taken completely off-guard, and I felt absolutely shocked and mortified by the way this male doctor examined me. I ran back to my place of work in tears. A more senior staff member took me to the HR manager, who phoned the police. I was told to go to the police station, and they interviewed me in detail. I would not speak to male officers and insisted on female officers.
At the station, they warned me that if I pressed charges, I would have to get up in court and relay what happened in graphic detail. They also advised me that since I couldn’t even bring myself to talk about the incident to male detectives, I would likely find it very stressful repeating the story to a court room full of people. In the end, I decided not to press charges, and the police simply noted the incident in their records.
Once I had injured myself at Taekwondo while holding a crash pad for one of the men. When he kicked the pad it jarred me badly, and I am small. The next day I noticed that my left thumb was numb, and the numbness traveled up my wrist. I also had an odd tingling in my lip. After I week I decided I’d better force myself to the doctor just in case something was wrong. So I put on my jogging gear and ran down for my appointment, figuring I’d get some exercise whilst I was at it.
My doctor did various tests on me, then told me to lie on the bed and not move. She then informed me she was ringing the hospital and calling an ambulance. I was told that I would be put in a full spinal brace and taken to hospital for suspected fracture of the cervical spine.
I protested strongly, telling her not only had I run down there, I had been running and training actively at Taekwondo since it happened. I also stressed that I was a very busy professional and did not have time for this. My protests were ignored and the ambulance was on its way. I felt like a complete idiot. I knew the ambulance personnel thought the doctor was a quack as well, but they had to deal with me now, as they were called.
I was terrified. I was given an injection to stop me from vomiting in the ambulance. This is a precaution that they give all spinal injury patients, as being strapped down and facing backwards in an ambulance apparently can cause nausea and vomiting. I was again made to lie perfectly still as they put the brace on. Then they picked me up and carried me out manually, as the trolley did not fit in the narrow hall. I was then strapped in, immobilized, and fearful that they would drop me.
When we arrived at the hospital, I again stated that this was ridiculous and a complete waste of everyone’s time. I’m sure my ambulance people thought the same, but they were not at liberty to say anything. After all, Madwoman was the doctor.
After a couple of hours of having to lie perfectly still in this awful brace, another physician finally arrived to examine me. For the last two hours I had to stay still, which meant I couldn’t go to the toilet, I could not move at all. It made me think, “Well, what if I really was hurt and had to stay here for weeks like this?” I had plenty of time to contemplate what it would feel like to be truly injured in this manner, and how a person’s world can turn upside down by just one accident.
After the doctor examined me, he agreed that nothing wrong with me, so he sent me home. The nurse gave me some Panadol for a headache, which was caused by the injection, and I walked home the 3kms ranting and raving to myself for losing a day’s work. I did, however, keep remembering what it felt like to be stuck in that brace, and as I enjoyed my freedom, I also thanked God that I didn’t have a neck injury.
But a week later, the numbness was still present, and it bothered me a lot, so I grudgingly thought I’d better go back to Dr Madwoman. Big Mistake! It was Groundhog Day for Debbie!
Once again, I was ordered to lie down whilst she called an ambulance. This time I protested that I had already paid a few hundred dollars for the last trip and since I had driven down, I could certainly drive myself to the hospital. No! She wouldn’t hear of it. Once again, the ambulance was summoned, once again I went through full spinal precautions, and once again I felt like a complete clown.
This time I had a bit more attention given to me at the hospital; they did X-ray my neck. They found I had some inflammation on a cervical rib, but told me it was nothing to be alarmed about. My Dad came and collected me this time and took me home.
"There for the Grace of God, Go I"
