I wonder if I would feel differently and react differently if it was my father in the same position – to what extent are we as a (feminist-identified) family overly-cautious because of Mum’s gender?

The weight thing I can sort of understand because of the immense pressure on the heart – I know Mum was advised to lose weight before her scheduled transplant. Then again, most renal patients have problems keeping weight on rather than getting it off, so perhaps the implication is that weight gain is down to another complication?

The previous doctor for whom I worked used to get very insulted that they call doctors “providers” now. It’s exceedingly difficult to find someone with whom you are compatible, and I would encourage the blametariat to think of them as just that. Providers. I’m lucky to be white, middle class, and working in healthcare because I’ve had the opportunity to take the time to see, for instance, five different specialists before actually finding one that helped me. Of course, I finally broke down and saw someone that takes no insurance (I’m in the US) and I have no out of network coverage through my health plan.

I’ve had a doctor actually say to me that she prefers caring for poor, immigrant women in the hospital rather than in her more highbrow private practice because the poor immigrant women just do what she says without asking questions.

It shocked me nearly breathless and oh, how I blame.

I had to have an ovarian tumor removed at the age of eighteen. (I’m twenty-one now, so this wasn’t long ago.) First thing the dude asks me is about my method of birth control, and then shakes his head when I told him I used a barrier method. Apparently, the only method of birth control that really works is to pump yourself full of hormones – a really irresponsible thing to say to someone that age. What if I had just stopped using contraception, period?

Then, he informed me that my cramps, which were so painful that I would cry and occasionally pass out, and were beginning to happen throughout the month, were normal and that I was just being a wimp. The best cure for cramps (suprise) is the pill. I insisted on an ultrasound and oh, well, you’re just being difficult, but if you insist, hey, what’s this giant object attached to your ovary?

Then, when I was preparing for surgery, the man wouldn’t even tell me if he planned to remove the ovary or not. He even mentioned removing both of them “just to be safe.” The guy flat-out told me that I could wake up with both, one, or none, and there was no room for discussion. Luckily, it was benign and I still have both of my ovaries.

Then, during a checkup, I asked when it would be safe to have sex again. A pretty simple question, right? He launched into a fifteen-minute lecture informing me what position I should use, how I should move, and suggested I “have a glass of wine” beforehand. I would never had dealt with any of this is I hadn’t been so young. Seriously, the older I get, the more messed-up it seems. If I ever go back to my hometown and see this jerk around, he’s going to get an earful.

On a more positive note, I visited a (female) doctor on my college campus who didn’t immediately blame my symptoms on pregnancy/STDs/wimpy lady-ness. I got in, was diagnosed, got my prescription, and got out in fifteen minutes. From now on I’m always going to go with a female doctor (even though I know this doesn’t guarantee anything).

Great screen name, by the way. I’m 38 here, child free, and thus far have no cravings to have a youngun or two crawling about. I call bull.

Besides, why do doctors always forget that if you get yourself sterilized and these mysterious cravings suddenly do materialize, there’s this little thing called ‘adoption’ which is capable of satisfying those cravings while providing home and care for a needy child at the same time?

Oh, that’s right: because only women who actual give physical birth are ‘real mothers’. Fuck the patriarchy and good luck with the search for essure.

This is the info For the international site of Essure, under Europe. I hope this helps.
You have a logical argument about children being a permanent decision and all, bwa ha ha. Spock couldn’t disagree with that. Just so you know, I turned fifty in December, never birthed nothing, and am glad of it. I haven’t even had kittens for crying out loud. I secretly believe that any offspring I might have had would be smarter and more compassionate than my siblings’ kids, so don’t tell’em K? Good luck fixing yourself, hope you get a good female Doc, and I’m mighty proud of you, if I dare say so.

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A feminist – I forget who, once pointed out that in the twenties, it was about the first time that boyish thinness was the vogue. Before that, varying shades of roundness was the style. Her proposition was that the sexual liberation of the twenties flapper had an underlying subtext: you can either have a sexual appetite or you can have an appetite for food – you can’t have both. A women must be on the leash somewhere or she’ll go all wonton or something. After that point, it was made illegal for chubby women, particularly white women to have a sex drive. By the way, this was not revoked after prohibition went away. Scary women with appetites. It is the most revolutionary thing for a large woman to be sexual.

Hey, this thread is a major, major, major story to me. I cannot believe (although I can believe) the testimony here on what treatment women have gotten in their own times of needing care. Why is it not front page of every feminist blog? Let’s form a posse and make sure that other blogs and news outlets cover it.