Don't go to the doctor without this trick (Tip #1)
I bet you haven't thought of it (but if you have, tell us how it went!)
Ever left a medical appointment plotting elaborate revenge? Me neither. Or prepped for one like a rap battle? Of course not. This article is for THOSE PEOPLE and we shall give our beatific selves a minute to rise above such nonsense and float along.
~zenful pause~
Okay, now that the goody-two-slippers are gone, BUONGIORNO, fellow sickies burnt like a bad perm by even worse appointments. That should be about 98% of us.
(And you know who really takes it in the teeth? Patients who were once doctors themselves, woof. I’m not saying doctors are terrible. I’m saying doctor’s appointments in an insurance model for a malady with very little research can be.)
These are the appointments I used to have: humiliating.
One doctor told me my severe bloat was “just middle age.” Several wrote “drug seeking behavior” in my chart. I started getting so defensive in doctor’s appointments that I once stood between the doctor and the door, for an hour, ensuring he couldn’t leave before I made my case and demanded tests in rapid-fire speech.
The worse the appointments got (and they do get worse as you exhaust the low-hanging fruit), the harder I tried. MEeps, I organized entire binders of medical tests. With tabs. Who even was I?
My try-hards backfired spectacularly. At best, I got hot potato’d in circles. At worst, I succumbed to rage-tears mid-appointment. After appointments, I screamed in my car a LOT. I was exhausted, broke, and digging myself in deeper.
These are the appointments I have now: organized, useful, positive, and productive—even with regular local PCPs.
The only external thing that’s changed is that doctors have more experience with wonky diseases due to Long Covid. Internally, though, the way I approach appointments is vastly different.
Appointments that used to stab my hope balloons now add extra helium. My doctors listen, we work together on forward strategies LIKE GROWN-UPS, and we make the most of whatever time we get.
I don’t roll out feeling like I might be cured. That’s overselling it. But I do leave feeling like there are options, ideas, and especially: empathy.
Want in? You might not even need to change doctors—just strategies. Three big tips incoming. I’ll break them out over a few newsletters to avoid overwhelm!
Trick #1: Record your appointments. No, really.
I cannot sing the praises of this trick enough. I use my phone voice memos to record real-life appointments and Zoom (plus Fathom) to record telehealths. Why do this?
Give yourself the gift of unclenching more in the appointment. Just getting to an appointment wears me out so much that by the time doc is talking, it’s tanking my energy to appear non-comatose. Recording takes the pressure off, because it’s not my one and only shot at “hearing” everything anymore.
Save time in future appointments. I have meaty appointments with my ME/CFS doctor. Before my next quarterly check up, I listen to our past behemoth. I make sure I’ve followed up on all his suggestions (and I’ve almost always missed a few), gather updates, plan our agenda based off where we were, and generally shave at least a quarter to a half of unnecessary repeat chatter off the cal.
(Bonus: this will make you your doctor’s favorite. They heart-eyes this kind of efficiency.)
YOU ARE MISSING SO MUCH, you don’t even know. Even in appointments where I *think* I’ve followed like a star student with thorough notes, I go back, re-listen, and hear important brand new things (and tones) I somehow missed before.
See how you present your case much more clearly. I’m spent by appointment o’clock. Felt like I was gonna pass out in the last one. And if I listen to the recording: I sound alert, intelligent, and dare I say it…healthy. At least to a doctor who doesn’t know me well. So that’s hella misleading.
When I go back and listen, I learn things like:
I often “make light” of how much pain I’m in—not helpful
I miss opportunities to highlight how much illness affects my life
I’ll think I begged for a treatment when it turns out I only really politely asked
All of which gives me the awareness to do better in my next appointment
Turn banger appointments into listen-anytime podcasts. I deeply regret not recording every last one of my therapy sessions, because 1) my therapist speaks to my soul 2) she ditched insurance and now sessions are ker-ching and 3) sometimes you just need to hear that explanation of how your brain (or other wonky organ) works once more. I have several great appointments I’ve listened to at least three times. It’s especially critical for things like surgical consults, where you might hold off for a few years and then come back to the decision.
If your doctor isn’t one who speaks to your soul (to put it mildly), they might at least be a bit kinder if they know they’re being recorded. And if you’re asking for tests or procedures…they might say yes to cover their rumps. (That said, let’s not start recording doctors to manipulate them—we want this as a tool, not a weapon.)
AI’s a touchy subject and this is totally your call, but: you can get extra techy and add AI apps to take notes for you and organize action steps. I’ve used Fathom (free) on Zoom and it’s boggling how well it can convert a circuitous conversation into takeaway bullets and action items.
How to ask to record a doctor’s appointment (in 36 states, you don’t have to!)
In my state, it’s illegal to record someone without their knowledge. (In most states, it’s not! Check your state or country here.)
I usually just say I have memory problems (true), am struggling today (like every day), and want to be able to refer to the appointment later. No one has ever said no. We usually agree it’s for private use only.
If someone did ever say no, I’d be real curious why. Doctors shouldn’t be saying anything in appointments they wouldn’t stand by in a recording, right?
Alternative hack: bring a human
If for whatever reason you can’t record—old phone, tech stresses you out, doctor says no (again, this has never happened when I’ve asked)—then bring along a human if at all possible. Or, best of all worlds: record AND bring a human, why yes, I’m a genius.
So many reasons: it’s more fun! There’s someone to steal Q-tips with! Male doctors will address questions to whatever random dude you bring with you! (True story.)
But mostly, your appointment buddy can listen and remember and provide feedback and perspective too. Of course, it’ll be colored by their own human experience, but it’s better than relying on just your own brain-fogged one.
Just because doctor’s appointments sap your sparkle now doesn’t mean they have to forever.
Is it extremely depressing that you need a whole strategy just to go to the doctor without feeling compelled to break plates afterwards, yes. But sickies, take the tools. One fight at a time. We’ll deal with this punkass system when we’re well.
In the meantime, let’s get you kitted out for battle so you can start running these appointments like a well-managed revolution.
Because let’s be honest: that’s what they really are.
Tip #2 incoming next week! STAY TUNED.
A little footnote
“It is possible to commit no mistakes and still lose.” That’s a Star Trek quote I live by.
I’m going to give you what I can to ensure you have the best appointment possible. And, there are things no one can control, up to and including: entire other humans, societal systems, and pervasive misconceptions about the limitations of going keto.
I’ve been able to make most of my appointments vastly better. There are still shit nugget ones sometimes.
So if you do everything “right” and your appointment is still a towel-screamer, give yourself a pass. The next one shall rock.
Dish in the comments please: Ever recorded an appointment? How did it go?
No? Dare you to try it.
In the meantime: Wish you had? Share that record-worthy thing your doctor said, good or bad.
What other hack changed your appointment game for the better?
A reader in the real-world wild asked me “how’s the meats” and the squeal I squealed. In public.
To be fair, I don’t get out much.
If you didn’t catch that reference, you need a Meatscon. It’s basically a “how many spoons do you have EXACTLY?” scale. I’m sharing mine with you so you can dial in your own version. It’s pay what you want/can/feel/or not!
Already bought one? Please review it! A lot of people haven’t downloaded digital products and I want them to see it’s a good move.
Already reviewed it? Good grief, you’re a peach.
Bless Substack for being so aggressively kind.
The other week, I left my coffee fund off. A reader IMMEDIATELY asked me to put it back. Aw. In the spirit of letting good things happen, I welcome decaf Americanos at Venmo kira-stoops, any payment you like on the Meatscon, and useful gifts are here.
PS. Take the money, le sickie:
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I haven’t thought of recording the therapy sessions. Why haven’t I?! I struggle to take notes of the most important things instead of listening to the next important thing.
This is such good advice! I didn’t know of the AI program that translates circuitous thinking into main ideas. Wow!!
I have self pay therapy/psychiatry.
In between I used the app “how we feel” because of the way it gives action points and makes sense of rambling. It notices patterns. It’s helpful and also free.
Interesting, here in Ontario, Canada the hospitals and clinics that I attend have a strict no recording policy, even though it is not technically illegal here. Same with therapy sessions, or at least the ones I have attended.