The Medical Professionals I'm Grateful for on My Chronic Illness Journey

Having chronic illness means I come across a lot of medical professionals. Some experiences have been positive deal-breakers; others have been, well, not so positive. I will say that the vast majority have been positive, however. I learned a lot from my time spent hanging out in a doctor’s exam room. I know that when they sit down and wheel their stool up to where I sit, we’re about to have a heart-to-heart and often a reality check on my part. When they make eye contact, I know they’re listening. When they look up from typing or scribbling down notes to make sure they heard me right as I describe my struggles, I know they care.

• What is Fibromyalgia?
• What Are Common Fibromyalgia Symptoms?

In a single year, I have had 100 doctor appointments. From visits with my primary care physician to seeing numerous teams of physical therapists, I’ve seen the difference good and caring medical professionals can make. I’d like to share a few moments that have truly stood out to me.

In the beginning, I felt like my primary care physician and I were just talking over each other. I wasn’t certain she was taking me seriously. We continued to have misunderstandings, but I stuck it out, because in the end she always showed up for me. Whether that was by haggling with my insurance company for special tests, giving me medications that would specifically avoid the need to swallow pills (I struggle with this), or writing out referrals to specialists that I requested to see.

Then, we had a heart-to-heart during a follow-up visit for my fibromyalgia. I shared that I felt misunderstood and I needed to feel like she was hearing me out. My primary care physician isn’t much older than me and I notice that our sense of style is similar too. She confided later that we were very much alike in the way we research things and make plans to tackle a problem. She felt that our alikeness was one of the reasons we were starting to clash. So, she pulled her stool closer to where I sat in my chair, gently patted my knee, looked me in the eye, and said, “You’re right. I am here to listen to you. We are a team. I want to help you with your health in every way I can. But you are your biggest ally as you battle it each and every day. I want you to know that I’m proud of you for speaking up and advocating for yourself. If that means correcting me, even more so. You’re not alone in this. I promise I will always have your back.” That conversation was a deal-changer. Not once since then have we had an issue. In fact, she always takes a moment before our visits are over to say how proud she is of me for taking care of my health. I’m so happy I have a caring PCP on my team now.

It took some communication and time to hit it off right with my primary care physician. That has not always been the case with the medical professionals I come across. with some, I found instant team members when it comes to my health. My first physical therapist is very memorable to me. I showed up as a nervous 27-year-old to his pool for aquatic physical therapy one Thursday afternoon. I was still reeling from my possible fibromyalgia diagnosis, but his approach was simply fantastic. This man was in his mid-50s, a former marine, and comedic as he helped me learn to understand how to process pain in my body. He knew from my chart that I was pretty bad off and my muscles were so incredibly weak due to deconditioning and tension after years of trauma. The first thing he taught me was to breathe and relax in the water. I was undergoing a lot of stress in my personal life at the time and although I didn’t talk about it, he would sense I was having a tough day. When this would happen, he threw in Rubber Ducky. A rubber duck that he convinced the staff he needed, and a compromise was only made once he brought one in that would check the temperature of the pool. He never ceased to get me to smile every visit.

Another physical therapist student who was also former military that left a huge impression on me. He only worked with me a few times. Usually, he hovered near a physical therapist he was learning from. Although still undergoing training, he did a phenomenal job during my assessment and I knew this because I had been through many assessments at this time. We worked one-on-one our next visit, with him instructing me on the stretches I needed to do.

I had no idea our last session together would be our last. He paused me while I was in between hamstring stretches that took the wind out of me, the pain was so bad. He looked me in the eye and asked, “May I ask you a personal question?” I was a bit confused at first but told him to go ahead. I’ve never forgotten his question, “How do you do this every day? How do you work through the pain? How do you accept there’s no cure? I feel like my world is spiraling.” I came to find within that conversation that this 27-year-old Army veteran was experiencing arthritis in his spine. He had a commanding officer that developed my condition (fibromyalgia) and had to retire after putting in 23 years in the military. Now, here he was becoming a physical therapist and an old injury had damaged his spine, causing chronic pain every day.

Suddenly our roles reversed as patient and professional and I can’t begin to tell you how much this helped me later on. My response? “Enjoy every single better day. Hold on to those for the ones that are just too much. Have fun when you can. Communicate to the people in your life about your health. Get a good therapist to help you through the depression.” He thanked me. I wouldn’t learn until a week later that he had finished that part of his studies and was only one more step away from becoming a certified physical therapist. I couldn’t help but cheer him on. I knew he would bring personal understanding to his approach with future patients like he did me.

There have been countless physical therapists that have made a difference in my life. From the one that realized my hips were too weak and taught me how to twerk by watching YouTube videos in order to perform a special pelvic tilt exercise, or the aquatic physical therapist who helped me not hide my pain anymore. There was the rheumatologist that sat me down and told me that my trauma caused my fibromyalgia pain and told me to keep researching my condition, giving me medical journals to look at. There were the nurses that always had the best stories to tell while taking my vitals or the allergists that would distract me by telling me to play a game on my phone while they administered 54 needles into my arms during testing. Then there have been the kind imaging technicians that brought me blankets and put me on a concert of rap while I battled the deafening humming sounds of MRI machines.

There have just been so many phenomenal medical professionals that really changed my life for the better. No one wants to be chronically ill, but if we must be, at least, allow us to be around such kind souls that ease the pain for a moment and remind us there is still joy to be found in cold doctors’ offices and waiting rooms.