Heart disease, Wrong patient 🤫

It’s a beautiful day to get my tubes tied—a personal decision. Boy was I in for a real surprise.

“We’re going to need a cardiologist to give clearance before we move forward with this procedure” the surgeon says. 

Confused as fuck, looking side to side, I managed to stutter, respectively, “I’m sorry, but what the fuck are you talking about?” So much fucking medical jargon or maybe it’s the versed but I was so damn confused at what was being said even in layman terms I wasn’t comprehending a single word.

The waiting game began. My annoyance level was elevating and my patience level was declining. Well Dr. No Fucks (this particular egotistical cardiologist) as there’s going to be several doctors that we talk about & this particular just seemed to really give no fucks. They’ll be some worth mentioning, others just a minimal part of this story, a couple I could’ve done the hell without, and a few that have became a huge part of my life through many of the different chapters and experiences that I rely heavily upon. 

Anyway, “Dr. No Fucks” quickly glanced at the tele-monitor and looked at me for a quick moment, back at the monitor, and proceeded with, “You appear to be athletic a low heart rate in the 30’s with PVC’s (just one of the many arrhythmias my heart will have) is normal for athletic individuals, especially runners” So, let’s back track really quickly, this was 2014. My ass wasn’t interested in a gym, in fact, I would laugh and say “there’s no way in hell you’ll ever catch me gymming”.  

Dr. No Fucks proceeded to give me clearance with the justification that it’s not out of the norm given my age and “physical appearance”. Not speaking for all medical professionals, or people in general, but physical appearance really makes it difficult for individuals to do further diagnostic testing or believe there’s more than what meets the eye. 

Finally, we proceed with tying my tubes. I’m lying in recovery and Dr. No Fucks comes in to do his due diligence in prescribing medication for this “newly found” heart problem that is considered “normal”. He also prescribes a life vest to ensure I’m “protected” if there’s the off chance that I would pass out. The vest is not only fucking bulky and heavy, but it was required to be worn all THE TIME, literally, unless I’m in the shower or water. Let’s not forget to mention swimming was highly not recommended from Dr. No Fucks. My side eye and RBF were strong and on a 10. The vest was fucking obnoxious and I was a hellacious patient who vocalized my frustrations. I just wanted to leave. I was pissed, my chest was uncomfortable, wasn’t sure at this point if it was from all the gas during the surgery or whatever the hell new language they were speaking regarding my heart but I was ready to leave. I knew I was dealing with a physician who was judging me based on my physical appearance because in his medical opinion “all was normal”. 

Not only was I doing this surgery alone (exception of my great grandma who was in the waiting room) but I received hearing that moving forward I’d have to start taking heart medication daily alone. 

I don’t know which was worse….the aloneness or the medical gaslighting. Being gaslighted by a medical professional felt fucking horrible. Was I not worth being seen as an individualI? How does a healthy 27 year old cope with heart disease or even tell my children?

Little did I realize that my world was about to start turning upside down…..