While I can’t say the full name of the inexcusably inept psychiatrist who couldn’t tell I was neurologically injured and in crisis, her first name is Karen. Ovvvv course it is! I’ll just call her A Karen Doe.
Just as ‘Karen’s’ were about to become a thing in 2020… The doctor who mistreated me literally is named Karen and she is a ‘Karen’. The entitlement and judgement were ridiculous. She made an utter ass out of herself to me. I laugh now about it, it’s so absurd.
Dr. Karen complained in my medical records that I was talking about my daughter too much. My daughter with Down Syndrome. She is not a mom. I knew that something was desperately wrong so of course I was thinking about my only child. That poor doctor, bless her heart. She doesn’t get it.
So it was of psychiatric note that I was speaking about my child to a few women who are also mothers on the unit? 🤔 They were talking about their kids too. What is wrong with that? That is just so weird right? The doctor actually noted in my chart that I was talking about my child with down syndrome too much. You cannot make this s*** up.
Having a child with down syndrome has changed my conversations with other women who are moms. It’s really sad that doctor had no idea what was happening. I was naturally raising DS awareness, of course, and some of those women did talk to me about their concerns of having a child with Down syndrome themselves, or a relative they have that was born with down syndrome. It’s just another topic of conversation and that doctor made a fool of herself.
Don’t hate me because my daughter and I are cool and I’m proud to talk about her, Karen.
Ultimately, I looked right at Dr. A Karen Doe and unintentionally shamed her verbally. She asked me why I was so focused on my child who has down syndrome. I looked at her and I said something along the lines of: Well, you must not be a mom. The particular bond that my daughter and I have only comes to the very few and I know you are feeling sorry for me on some level. Don’t be. You will never understand it because I highly doubt that you have children or are planning on having them.’ It was the most direct and clear thing I had said since I got there five days before. She was looking right at me and her face turned red. She looked away. I knew I had exposed the truth. At least she has a conscience.
How is Dr. Karen taking care of all these women not even knowing or caring about how to take care of and treasure a child? From what I saw, a lot of these women were very childlike and this doctor didn’t even grasp the concept of nurturing or respect. The doctor certainly was complaining. Seriously complaining. Which nurse or tech complained? The patients were not complaining, not one of them.
In addition, after coming out of the situation I was in, starving and pleading to deaf ears and so I was using my child to humanize myself, I was still doing it. I was still trying to get across to these people that I needed help and food and the only way I figured I could do that was to make myself stand out in some way. I don’t think my child would’ve minded one single bit that I did such a thing. It actually worked and I was looked at for the woman that I am and not somebody that some doctor made out to be of psychologically ill. What a dumb ass. I did not ever receive any needed nutrition from them even though I asked repeatedly. I had to wheel myself down to the cafeteria in a wheelchair that had a broken front wheel. I was a serious fall risk and they ignored it. I could barely move my arms and legs right… I told them I was nothing like that normally.
So you think your 2020 was bad, I ended up in a psych ward, and I survived a ‘Karen’ samurai. I’m laughing 😆 I didn’t belong in the psych ward. But that Dr. Karen needs therapy, obviously.
© 2021 The Patient Complained
The Patient Complained 