When The Oath To Do No Harm Is Broken

When The Oath To Do No Harm Is Broken

This is for those of you who have been traumatized in the past by doctors who have left you on your own.
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It's a Tuesday morning. I wake up, and once I come out of the fog, I remember today's the day; I have an appointment with a new cardiologist.

For many people this would be a pretty mundane thing. Yet all of the sudden I am filled with worry, and sheer anxiety. Seeing a new doctor often makes me nervous for weeks before. Same with seeing an old doctor, with the exception of the few I trust.

Why am I fearful? Doctors took an oath. An oath to do no harm. And I often feel traumatized by my past experiences with them. I have been let down so many times before, in so many ways.

My very first bad experience came right when my symptoms began. I went to my GP at the time, who told me I was just out of shape and that my depression wasn't well controlled, despite me telling her that something else was definitely wrong. This became a pattern, repeating itself so many times until I thought I was probably just imagining things.

People would tell me, "doctors are just people", and that I shouldn't be so nervous. "They're not Gods!", they would say. But to me, they were. They were the ones who held my life in their hands. My future. They were the ones with the power to change my life, by either fighting and advocating for me, or by shrugging their shoulders at my problem and leaving me on my own. The latter is what happened most of the time.

So I lost faith in doctors, but I would keep going to them. I wanted not only to function and be able to live life again, but to not be in pain every day. Each appointment, I would put up my shield and prepare myself for the blow. Even with a little chance of hope in the back of my mind, I would prepare myself for a painful visit. I did not expect them to help me. I did not expect to come closer to answers. I did not expect them to keep their oath of doing no harm. Because at times, their words replayed in my head for days. At times, I had nightmares about them. At times, they made me want to give up, because of how easily they gave up on me.

So to all you future doctors in med school, please remember that you will be holding someone's life and future in your hands. You will be holding someone's ability to go to school and go to work in your hands. You will be holding someone's freedom in your hands. We're breakable. Please be careful not to drop us.

Cover Image Credit: http://www.benmvp.com/

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3 Reasons Why Step Dads Are Super Dads

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I often hear a lot of people complaining about their step-parents and wondering why they think that they have any authority over them. Although I know that everyone has different situations, I will be the first to admit that I am beyond blessed to have a step dad. Yep, I said it. My life wouldn't be the same that it is not without him in it. Let me tell you why I think step dads are the greatest things since sliced bread.

1. They will do anything for you, literally.

My stepdad has done any and every thing for me. From when I was little until now. He was and still is my go-to. If I was hungry, he would get me food. If something was broken, he would fix it. If I wanted something, he would normally always find a way to get it. He didn't spoil me (just sometimes), but he would make sure that I was always taken care of.

SEE ALSO: The Thank You That Step-Parents Deserve

2. Life lessons.

Yup, the tough one. My stepdad has taught me things that I would have never figured out on my own. He has stood beside me through every mistake. He has been there to pick me up when I am down. My stepdad is like the book of knowledge: crazy hormonal teenage edition. Boy problems? He would probably make me feel better. He just always seemed to know what to say. I think that the most important lesson that I have learned from my stepdad is: to never give up. My stepdad has been through three cycles of leukemia. He is now in remission, yay!! But, I never heard him complain. I never heard him worry and I never saw him feeling sorry for himself. Through you, I found strength.

3. He loved me as his own.

The big one, the one that may seem impossible to some step parents. My stepdad is not actually my stepdad, but rather my dad. I will never have enough words to explain how grateful I am for this man, which is why I am attempting to write this right now. It takes a special kind of human to love another as if they are their own. There had never been times where I didn't think that my dad wouldn't be there for me. It was like I always knew he would be. He introduces me as his daughter, and he is my dad. I wouldn't have it any other way. You were able to show me what family is.

So, dad... thanks. Thanks for being you. Thanks for being awesome. Thanks for being strong. Thanks for loving me. Thanks for loving my mom. Thanks for giving me a wonderful little sister. Thanks for being someone that I can count on. Thanks for being my dad.

I love you!

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My Eating Disorder Was A Secret, Even From Me

No one ever talks about it, and if they had my life might be different.

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I remember ninth grade health class very well, specifically one day in particular. The day we talked about eating disorders, I was ready to hear about anorexia and bulimia. I was not ready to walk out of that classroom with confirmation that I had an eating disorder, but that is exactly what I did that day.

After speaking on anorexia and bulimia, my teacher told us about Binge Eating Disorder.

My 14-year-old ears perked up. I had never heard of this disease, but I was immediately interested. I knew anorexia and bulimia well, they were the diseases that, at the time, I wish I had the determination to try, but I was too scared to hurt my body.

Binge Eating Disorder was new to me. My teacher described it as continuing to eat after you were full and eating for hours at a time. As the signs and symptoms continued to be read, I realized... that the last three years of my life had been plagued by binges. There was a lot I couldn't control in my life, but eating was one thing that I always had control over. It was the one thing that always brought me comfort.

Most binges would start after I came home from a hard day at school, or maybe after I got in a fight with a family member. Maybe I felt insecure about the growing number on the scale, but I ate.

It always started with half a bag of chips, then maybe a cookie or other sweet treat, and then I would finish with something else I could find in the pantry. My mother would come home and begin making dinner.

Ashamed, I would hide the food anywhere so my family could not tell I had been eating and then I would go eat dinner.

This was a common occurrence for me, but I had no idea that my habits were wrong or should point to an eating disorder. The only thing that I knew was wrong with me, was that I was gaining weight.

For the longest time, I thought an eating disorder was something that helped you lose weight unhealthily, not gain weight. It wasn't until I sat in a health class that I realized that there was anything wrong with me.

Education is so important in overcoming eating disorders. We are making such great strides about informing people about the dangers of eating disorders and positive body image.

It is so important that we start making Binge Eating Disorder a topic that is as known as anorexia and bulimia. No one ever discusses Binge Eating Disorder, not even the dangers of it, maybe if they had my life might have been different.

Maybe I would have found out about it earlier and could have gotten help before it got out of hand.

I wish I could say that I left that health class that day and never had a binge again. The truth is I binged several times after that, and still to this day I have an episode, although they are very rare.

It would be unrealistic to tell you that I overcame my eating disorder that day because it is a journey I am still completing. Every day presents a new challenge, and sometimes I fail, but I will succeed, and succeeding is worth a few failures.

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