My Doctor Yelled at Me for Doing Hormone Replacement Therapy
The medical profession is sadly unprepared to talk about this important women’s health issue
A Routine Doctor Visit Becomes a WTF Moment
Going to the doctor doesn’t top my list of fun things to do. There’s something about being face-to-face with a white-coated professional that intimidates me. I feel like a mere peasant humbly seeking reassurance that what’s ailing me won’t kill me.
I felt that familiar nervousness when I visited my new GP the week after my 52nd birthday. A random lump cropped up under my skin, and after an online search, the Internet gods convinced me it must be some kind of tumor.
I sat in the sterile white exam room, the air conditioning bringing a welcome respite from the summer heatwave. My back was beginning to ache after fifteen minutes of sitting bolt upright on the exam table. I was about to reach for the distraction of my phone when the door swung open, and my new GP, a harried-looking man in his late forties, entered the room.
He got down to business, performing a cursory check of my skin and asking a question or two before pronouncing the source of my concern as an infected ingrown hair. A short course of antibiotics and…
