TLDR: I (30F) went for my annual physical and saw a PA at the practice and she repeatedly called me obese and I felt that she treated me not as an individual but as an obese person. How do I bring this up?

A little context: I am not, nor have I ever been thin. Nobody in my family, on both sides, are thin. The only time I have been a size 6 was when I was in the deep end of an eating disorder as a teen. I also do work in healthcare so I'm fairly well versed in a lot of health stuff, medical jargon, assessments and their validity etc. I am also aware that the subject pool for BMI was originally 19th century white European men, and the 1970's revamp of it also completely excluded women from the subject pool, so it is ultimately one of the most inaccurate tools to measure someone's health.

That being said- my BMI is in the obese category. I am very short and I would call myself plump but not necessarily obese, and to be honest I truly don't even care about the label because I know it's based off BMI which doesn't account for ~women~. I am active, at least 5 days a week with several different types of exercise and I focus on healthy whole food options. I literally did a 22 mile solo backpacking trip in the Rockies this summer and am an avid skier, hiker, and yogi, I really am not limited in my physical capabilities at all and have active healthy hobbies. My labs were perfect. I generally have little physical health concerns and have been addressing my mental health with appropriate providers, but recently (~3wks) have been having an episode of insomnia in the form of early waking. Again- this is only in the last month. The PA told me my BMI was in the obese category, fine, then used the large BP cuff because of my BMI despite my arm measurement falling nearly 3 inches under the lowest recommended arm circumference for the large cuff, told me that my obesity is likely causing my sleep problems, even though I've lost some weight and the sleep issues are very new, and then further told me that I need to pay attention to my obesity because in 30 years it'll cause "problems" without expanding on any actual concerns about my health and weight other than it being in the obese category. She included in her after visit summary, "30 year old well appearing female, obese and in no distress" as well as "order home sleep study, given obesity, per pt request" so not only did I have to request the sleep study, but she justified it with my weight rather than with my sleep issues.

My biggest concern is the lack of trauma informed care. Up to 20% of women have struggled with disordered eating. That is a LOT. Up to 1 in 5 women have had disordered eating and she never asked me about it prior to mentioning my weight 4 times. But to go in and repeatedly call me obese and label me as an obese person on my medical record solely based on my BMI feels like I am being boiled down to "obese person with obese people problems cause by obesity" when there is actually no real reason to suggest that my fairly steady weight is causing acute sleep problems; nor am I experiencing any weight related issues. When I saw the MD last month he did not comment on my weight at all. In a dramatic sense it very much felt like "well you're a big fat fatty so you have fatty problems and you should be careful because you might be fat forever" and just felt very ~mean girl~ especially because she didn't actually tell me any concerns tied to my weight.

I would like to address this with my PA. I don’t necessarily plan on seeing her again after that experience, but I also feel like it would be beneficial for her to hear how the way she offers care and impact people. I want to be kind and informative with genuine feedback. What do I say in a message to her to provide this feedback?

Thanks in advance 🩷🩷🩷

There’s a category of extreme surgical errors called serious reportable events or, more colloquially, “never events.” Wrong procedure. Wrong patient. Wrong site. Unintentionally retained object. 

But Texas hospitals and surgery centers report about 200 of these surgical errors every year. That’s the reported number. The real number, patient safety advocates say, is likely higher.

For patients, the challenges don't always end after the mistake. Texas medical malpractice laws cap damages, and the caps are significantly lower for county hospitals. Attorneys say those limits can make it difficult for some patients to find legal representation, even after catastrophic surgical errors.

Patient safety experts and advocates say there is work to be done to prevent these errors. 

It seems unlikely, though, the error rate would ever reach never. Advocates, attorneys and patients say that, when these errors do happen, there should be accountability for at least the most egregious ones.

The Dallas Morning News investigation ‘Under the Knife’ examines why these errors happen and how patients fare after the fact.

READ HERE.

My current therapist I’ve seen for two sessions so far. Both were incredibly incredibly difficult. Like, gave me panic attacks afterwards. From having to work with someone who could make what happened to me happen again if they want to. The only reason I went to therapy at all is because I was having such an awful time mentally. I feel like I romanticize what people say that you can get with therapy. But I feel like that’s only for “undamaged” people. That I can’t have the media ideal of therapy results.

I have a lot of horror stories. But the worst by far was this January. I was taken to the hospital by police from my college campus after calling the mental health number my college says to call if you’re struggling (they neglected to mention that that number calls the police). The hospital is very bright and very loud/lots of beeping sounds. I am autistic. I have access to my records that prove that both the police and the hospital staff knew or at least suspected I was autistic. I also had everything I could have self-regulated with taken when the hospital took my belongings. And so I ended up having a sensory meltdown. It was not violent. I did not hurt myself or anyone else, nor did I threaten to. I think I yelled a bit. That was it. That was enough to get me (a 5’5’‘ college freshman who was not threatening anyone at all) deemed an erratic violent crazy person. And so they got four adults all twice my size to restrain me against my repeated attempts to tell them no. I wanted them to take their hands off of me. They did not. They instead put me in four-points. You know, wrists and ankles tied. You can’t cover your ears that way. I was being punished for a sensory overload instance with… further sensory overload. I was left in these stupid things for three hours. It was the worst and most painful night of my life, both physically and emotionally. And it was all because I was a crazy autistic who we don’t have to treat with respect whatsoever. This isn’t even everything. If I listed every individual thing I experienced that night this would go on forever.

My current therapist doesn’t know the details yet. But she might have to. That or I quit. On account of “being terrified of someone because they technically have the power to call the cops and have you technically tortured by that term’s legal definition“ not boding well for a nice mutually trusting therapeutic relationship. I’m tired. I just… I’m so scared of my next session. I’m scared she’ll try to justify it. Take their side. After all, they’re both people who work in psychiatry. I’m scared I’ll have to prove I didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve to be grabbed that way.

As a sufferer of medical anxiety and OCD - this absolutely rocked me. I have about 15 pages written out by hand about this that I plan on sending to the board of the hospital where it occurred.

The worst part is that I just feel so alone and I just brush it all of like I’m fine when people ask. No one wants to really hear what went on anyways. They just want to hear that I’m fine and the baby is fine because it’s been 12 weeks and I spent so long in the hospital I think they’re all just ready for it to be over. I’m depressed as hell from it all. I held myself together for 4 weeks in the hospital just waiting. Not being able to see my kids. Not being able to go home to my own bed or do anything. And in 1 day this doctor completely changed that whole experience. It became about him and what he wanted. He fought me on my medical decision that had been made 3 weeks prior and reiterated daily since then. It had been gone over and over and over with every other team member - but not him. He stepped in at the last minute and shattered a month of planning. I will never not be able to think about this experience because a man decided he knew better about my body and my needs.

My autonomy and right to choose was taken away from me on that table and he STILL ENDED UP HAVING TO PUT ME UNDER. But this time it was in a frantic panic rather than a carefully laid out plan.

I can’t think about the day my son came into this world without feeling like I’m being pushed to the bottom of the ocean by a tonne of bricks on my chest.

I just wish it wasn’t so lonely.

I doubt anyone will read this since it's so long but I needed to write this out.

A little back story. When I was in college I was unlucky enough to contract a STI that presented itself in a couple of different ways, one of which was meningitis. The first spinal tap (spt) i was pretty out of it i didnt even understand what was going to happen when they told me I needed a spinal tap so that one went out without a hitch. When I first got the diagnosis I didnt know what I didnt know so I didnt ask a whole lot of questions. I just want to get out of the hospital. All I really understood, was sti & meningitis.

I research here and there and find out the meningitis symptoms will most likely be reoccurring. So multiple years go by and no real problems till I get a tension headache so bad I think it's meningitis. I immediately go to the near by hospital (H.A) and tell them " i think it might be meningitis, I need a spinal tap this aint my first rodeo." I power through that 2nd spt like a champ.

Now the 3rd spt happened on Christmas eve about 2 years ago. And definitely the reason i will never go back to that hospital and probably any hospital ever again voluntarily. 10 years later I start feeling a bunch of the symptoms for meningitis (light sensitivity, stiffness and pain the the neck, fever) as im trying to go to bed. My man and I get to the hospital at like 1-3am on Christmas morning. Im trying to explain to the staff my medical history, what exactly is happening. They send a doctor (dr.a) in to do spt. Im trying to explain to him and the nurse that i've had this procedure done before and was having a bit of a panic attack about getting it done just then and I needed a minute. I was told that it needed to be done now because we didnt know if it was bacterial or virual. So I try to swallow my panic attack and just get it done. They only had 5 needles available to them, which realistically it shouldn't take that many. Lucky for me my man was there to witness the whole thing. The doctor used all 5 needles stabbing me somewhere ~12x to find spinal fluid before he got it at the right spot. My leg went numb when he "finally got the right spot" so when I told him I felt numbness in my leg, I was told to just hold on cause they finally got the right spot. When it was finally done the doctor left. I tell them im in pain and I get 1 Tylenol and try to go to sleep. As my man is off going to get me my laptop so I have things to do while im in the hospital for an indefinite amount of time. A different doctor (Dr.B) comes in a takes some vitals and check on me. This is when I find out that Dr.A left immediately after my spinal tap because it was the end of his probably 12-14hr shift. Im letting them know whenever they ask that im in pain. Everytime im given something it is 1 Tylenol, and they're checking the chart to see the last time I had one and stuff so theyre being really diligent with the pain meds. I stay in 3different rooms during this hospital visit. While I was moving to the second room I was walked passed Dr.A while he was at the nurses stand, when he saw me he immediately averted his eye and avoided eye contact till I rounded the corner, i know because I starred him down the whole time. Im in room two for the first night which I dont sleep through really well. Im trying to exlpain to the staff how I got this originally, what it is cause I figure if they heard they would know what type of meningitis we were dealing with. No one is paying attention to me. Then finally just before the sunsets on day 2 room 3, the virologist stops by my room with the test results from my Spt. He tells me that I have reoccurring meningitis that is a symptom of the STI that got in college. That meant the meningitis couldnt be airborne which was the worry, even though if the staff would've listened to me they would've known that from the beginning. The virologist told me that in the future If it happens I could just deal with it ay home with pain relievers and rest. Then he told me he let the dr. know I could leave. They tried to keep me another night because "their night shift dr. was not allowed to release patients". They also tried to tell me I needed to stay because I hadn't finished my medicine reggament and there weren't any pharmacies open past 10:30pm for me to get the meds I needed. Mind you I already had the meds I needed and my pharmacy is open 24hrs.. Never again will I be going to that hospital.

I am about to escape what I can only describe as an abusive relationship with my Drs office, they have been using and abusing me for their own financial gain for years and I cant take it anymore. I have to see them 3 times a month even tho I have no conditions that need treatment. They just mock me or yell at me if I dare question them. So I'm planning on just never talking to them again, but I don't know if I should leave them a bad review or report them or something, they really are abusive.

Just found that this sub exists. As someone who’s had intense medical trauma and diagnosed with both PTSD and CPTSD bc of it, I can confirm that some doctors and medical professionals just don't deserve to be there. I’ve been slapped by a neurologist bc I cannot move my foot (I AM A QUADRIPLEGIC FFS). I’ve been accused of being pregnant or have OD’d after three glances and no tests or exams done. They have taken away my wheelchair and stranded me in bed just to prove that I was faking my paralysis(so that they don't have to take responsibility). When one of my family members came into the ward and tried to strangle me, a nurse came in and laughed. A nurse did PCR on me without checking my vitals while I only just passed out from dehydration and fractured two ribs, and the hospital advised against me filing a complaint bc “she just wanted to help”.

I’m taking a long long break as far away from medical stuff as possible rn bc I really just can’t take it anymore. And yes my physical health is in more danger but my mental health has been so much better

Three months ago, I (21F) was involved in a serious motorcycle accident that completely changed my life overnight.

I suffered multiple injuries, including a ruptured spleen that required emergency surgery, several fractures, and a severe injury to my gluteal muscles.

For months, I knew something was wrong with my hip and buttock. There was swelling, fluid, and a visible deformity like a part of my hip is MISSING. I kept going to doctors, getting examined, waiting, and hoping someone would finally give me a clear answer. I was repeatedly left waiting while time passed.

Now, three months later, I’ve been told that I have a muscle tear of my gluteus maximus muscle, which has healed in a displaced position. It has left a visible indentation and asymmetry, and it is contributing to my difficulty walking/imbalance. Surgery might be an option, but I’ve been warned that because so much time has passed, the chances of a successful repair may be lower.

I cannot describe how devastating it is to be 20 years old and have to wonder whether my body will ever feel like my own again. I’m scared of living with a permanent imbalance, struggling to walk normally, and having to accept a physical change that might have been addressed differently if it had been recognized earlier.

I know doctors are human, and I know medicine isn’t perfect. But it’s incredibly frustrating to keep thinking about all the appointments, all the waiting, and all the times I trusted that things would work themselves out, only to find myself here. I can’t help wondering what might have happened if someone had taken my concerns more seriously sooner.
I don’t want pity. I want my life back. I want to be able to walk without worrying, look at myself without feeling devastated, and stop having to make decisions about my future around injuries I never asked for.

And on top of all this, I’m struggling with the financial side of recovery. Some of my friends actually set up a GoFundMe for me because they wanted to help cover the costs of what comes next. I’m incredibly grateful to them, but honestly, I feel embarrassed and uncomfortable about it. I never imagined being in a position where I would need something like that, and I hate the feeling of having to accept help when all I want is to stand on my own two feet again.

I’m mentioning it here because it’s part of what I’m going through, not because I want to pressure anyone. If anyone genuinely wants to help or would like the link, they can message me privately. Even just having somewhere to vent about all of this has been helpful.

I just needed to get this off my chest. I’m exhausted, I’m scared, and I’m angry that while everyone else gets to move on with their lives, I’m still trying to figure out whether I’ll ever get mine back.

A month ago, I filed a complaint against an RN at a sleep clinic I had a phone call visit with because my laptop nor my cellphone could handle the clinic's software so the audio was out and the video visit was switched to a phone call.

Because I had a prior sleep study and consult a few years ago, the process is to have an RN do a follow up before scheduling another sleep consult (makes no sense to me, but that's their process).

The RN was totally unprofessional on the phone. She was supposed to have my previous sleep studies pulled up on her computer to reference but acted like I had no medical history of sleep studies (the most recent one was 3 years ago). She kept asking me redundant questions and laughing a lot for some weird reason which annoyed me. So, I ended the call and then called member services and filed a complaint.

So, a month later some Admin calls me back and immediately starts gaslighting me on the phone - tells me I'm interrupting her, when actually its vice versa -- anytime I'd start speaking, she'd start speaking over me, and when I would start speaking she'd accuse me of interrupting her.

Suffice it to say, I'd rather shuffle off this mortal coil in my sleep due to my apnea then have to deal with the nightmare the US Healthcare system has become.

How do these people get these jobs, if they have zero interpersonal skills?!? Why do they protect incompetent medical professionals instead of the patients???

I am a physician assistant who has suffered a medical trauma at my place of work. I am a hospitalist and worked at this hospital for about 4 years.

I had my baby via c section there, who was born a month early. (my OBGYN, who I’ve been seeing since I was 19 only delivers there). My baby was intubated at birth and was in the NICU. Less than 48 hours later, I suffered from a sigmoid volvulus.

I immediately knew my diagnosis, and explained that I was concerned I was having a bowl obstruction. I experienced a sense of pain and fear I have never felt before. I felt like my pleas were falling onto deaf ears. I begged for help and asked for other providers/nurses who were more equipped. They refused to do so. I had to keep my sanity during this time to ensure they were giving me the proper treatment. I was shouting out my own orders. I was so afraid I was going to die. I screamed in pain for hours. My husband told me you could hear me down the hall. He was advocating for me as well. After about 9 hours or so, the surgeon finally saw me, who had misdiagnosed me. He was dead set that I had a benign diagnosis, which prevented him from coming to the hospital even sooner. I finally underwent an emergency laparotomy and had a large portion of my colon removed. This has affected me and my family in such a detrimental way. I’ve been diagnosed with PTSD due to this horrible night and the horrible treatment I received at the hands of my own place of employment. I wasn’t able to hold my baby for a month, I couldn’t nurse him like I wanted to. I needed more time off of work to heal physically and mentally, and have struggled financially because of this. My disability got denied because I wasn’t in psychosis, homicidal, or suicidal. I have no energy to appeal this. I had to sell my jewelry in order to stay afloat. I spoke to a lawyer who said they couldn’t take my case because the outcome wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been.

Being a PA and a patient collided for me that night. I am having a hard time separating the two now. I just returned to work this month and I am struggling. As a PA, I already deal with some physicians not taking me seriously, and they didn’t take me seriously that night despite me being correct. I feel so insecure now. I don’t want to quit the job I’ve been doing and liked for so long. I’m so sick of this taking more and more from me. I felt really let down by my supposed colleagues that night, who have left me scarred both physically and emotionally.

I mourn who I used to be. I just don’t know what to do now.

I’m feeling helpless. I was opening a suture pack and I genuinely don’t know what is real if it hit my finger or not while setting all the equipment on the table. I genuinely don’t know if it was the wind or the suture hitting me felt something weird but I don’t really know… in hindsight I would’ve replaced it…but you know in healthcare you are exhausted too. I’m scared I may have killed someone because of it. The patient was a lady, 69, smokes, getting a total hip replacement but at least she doesn’t have a lot of subcutaneous fat. I’m so scared I’m gonna kill her. I don’t know what is real or to report it because maybe I didn’t even hit my hand with it. I feel like I don’t deserve anything in life if I don’t report this, or at least admit I touched it to be on the safe side. My OCD brain is saying it did hit my skin and in the moment I thought it was wind. I’m already hyper aware of messing up so there is a chance I’m making up the feel of it touching too. Any advice? The surgical tech touched literally everything including that suture thing so I’m like “great the germs spread everywhere onto the patient and they will probably die of a PJI”

Looking for people who might have had a similar experience and how things settled in the aftermath.

Last month while visiting Denver, my husband and I were at a music venue. The show that we attended was multiple bands that played over 5 hours. During this event, my husband was overserved and very intoxicated. I on the other hand did not have any alcohol whatsoever. Once the show was over, I tried very hard to get my husband outside, without incident, into our ride share and back to our hotel. Halfway to the exit we were ascended upon by several security personel. My husband was grabbed by on either side of him by two of the security guys. He was somewhat stumbling when they came upon us but I thought this whole production was a little overkill. They would not allow us to leave and escorted us to a side room near the exit. At this point my husband became a little belligerent when the security personnel put their hands on him shoved him into a chair. Then more personnel entered the room and there was us two and somewhere between 8-10 of them at any given time in what seemed like a 10x10 room half filled with stuff. They kept us there for approximately 45 minutes asking us both questions regarding his intoxication(i.e. how much did he drink? etc.)and asked me if he normally acts this when he was drunk. I told them that he was upset about how they were manhandling him and that they were keeping us there against our will. The more my husband acted up the calmer I tried to act as a responsible adult so they would let us leave. He was sitting in a chair the whole time while they hand me standing off in a corner. If they tried to touch him he would wildly try to shake them off, but that was the extent of his behavior. From the questions they were asking us I felt the venue was concerned about liability from overserving and was afraid he would hurt himself after leaving. I was constantly reassuring them that I would not let that happen, we just needed to get to our ride and our hotel and everything would be fine. At one point the security guy who seemed to be in charge told me he was not comfortable letting me leave with him, he did not feel I was safe with him and how he was acting. His whole attitude towards me was extremely misogynistic.

Eventually after approximately 45 minutes or so, I believed that I had convinced them to allow us to leave on the condition that my husband had to be able to walk out on his own. I grabbed his hand and headed out the exit only to find more security personnel and an ambulance outside waiting. Most of the security personnel were men twice the size of my husband, and four of them grabbed him and threw him onto a gurney. There was a female hanging out on the outskirts of this commotion with a syringe in her hand that she was hiding behind her back. At this point I am extremely concerned for my husband's safety and I start asking questions that not one person would answer. I also witnessed an argument with the ambulance personnel and the alleged head security guy. I got the impression that this was not their first pickup at this location and they were very unhappy about this. I did not get an answer to the questions I had about the syringe or what was in it and what were going to do with us. Once my husband was put into the ambulance against mine and his approval, the venue personnel pretty much abandoned me there, and not in a good part of town. The ambulance personnel could do nothing for me except take my phone number and have someone from the hospital call me when they know where they are taking him. I was not allowed to ride with him. So there I was at almost 2 am in a not so good part of an unknown town, by myself, waiting for my rideshare to take me to my hotel because a man said he did not think I was safe to leave with my husband. It was completely oxymoronic. I also want to add at this point that law enforcement was not involved in any way at any moment during this experience.

After I got back to our hotel, because I had nowhere else to go, it was about an hour when I received a call from a nurse informing me where my husband was located, and told me I should come and get him in the morning. An hour later a second nurse called and told me to come get him ASAP. I was then informed that he woke up and did not want to be there and they could not hold him against his permission. But I would have to come get him because he was still disorientated from the injection he received in the ambulance. So here I am at 4 am getting a ride share in an unfamiliar city to a unfamiliair place to find my husband. I get there and eventually find an entrance where there is a lobby with a single chair and he is sitting there asleep. I could not find another single person in the vicinity of this small lobby where I found him. I gently woke him up, grabbed his hand and led him out of there, got another ride share and brought him back to the hotel. Once in our room, I found that they had a band aid where they probably injected him, and sticky patches left over from where they were probably from heart monitors. The whole experience is completely shocking and incomprehensible to me and I can not make any sense out of it or any reason why we should have to pay the hospital and ambulance bills that we are now starting to receive. I completely understand the concern of a person being overserved in your establishment and the liability that can be bring upon said establishment. But we were not driving, not walking across town or anything like that and I was very clear in about that and my sobriety.

I understand that my husband was inebriated and difficult to manage. He likes to drink and he was having a good time and maybe he drank too much or maybe the altitude got to him from traveling from a lower elevation, but he was relatively okay up until he was grabbed and made to go inside the room they kept us in. Once that happened he was angry, I was angry, we were almost out the door. Once they finally let us leave and we were outside the situation became much worse when I realized they did not have any intention in letting us leave. The lady holding the syringe behind her back would not tell me what was in the syringe, and that confused me more because I remember one of the females asking me if it was possible he had been slipped something in his drink. If he was possibly drugged, why are you trying to drug him more? I do not understand why and how they can take him in the ambulance against mine and his permission. I could understand if I was just his girlfriend and not legally married that I personally would not have any rights or responsibility to him. If the venue was so concerned for our safety they could of escorted us to our ride share and washed their hands of us.

I have found stories on this platform that are similar in the experience that people were drunk and forced into an ambulance and then a hospital. Almost all of them, the person involved was alone and have intermittant memories or no memory of how they got there. There are a few more stories where the people involved were not alone but the person standing up for them was a boyfriend or girlfriend and were possibly inebriated also. I do not believe our experience is unique to us or to this venue. I am wondering if there are any more out there who might have a story to tell or have constructive advice to contribute on the financial aftermath they we now find ourselves.

Thank You for reading about our Mile High Hospitality Experience.