GP fail. A rage-fuelled post.

UPDATE

My GP was utterly useless, if this comes as any surprise? I explained in detail that my last focused attempt at weight loss was successful, but I had turned to comfort eating when life threw endless curveballs at me, to get me back to this point. 335lbs, give or take. I told him that although I know I can lose weight (as evidenced last time), I can’t motivate myself to to do so during the peaks and troughs of clinical depression.

He told me to start taking antidepressants again, I’m not allowed to take antidepressants long-term because it can reduce the effect of my other medication (which is more immediately important), hence ‘weaning’ off it 4 times in the past year and a half. The torturous inconsistency of being told by the GP, that I had to wean off as a matter of urgency, then told I must start up on it again, back and forth, highs and lows. It’s like putting a plaster on a gunshot wound. I almost screamed with rage.

Anyway, then he printed off a ‘leaflet’, 3 columns: Low-fat foods, medium-fat foods, high-fat foods. “Try and swap foods in this column *points to 3* with foods in this column *points to 1*, you should see some good results.”

images

Teeth gritted, I thanked him politely and left… Before I had the chance to grab him by his mop of hair and smash his face through the wall.

He didn’t even weigh me. He didn’t offer me any tests. He didn’t offer me any help, other than to advise me to try a low-fat diet, which isn’t even a good idea for someone with my health condition (from my own research about it).

I have a BMI of 47. I read the NICE guidelines on obesity, with a BMI of over 40, I fulfil the criteria for weight loss surgery, bypassing the referral schemes and medications. I AM NOT HEALTHY and my GP won’t help me. I don’t even want surgery, but I also read about a team of people who prepare morbidly obese people for surgery; dieticians and psychologists… THOSE ARE THE PEOPLE I NEED.

But it’s not going to happen, this is the real world and this is my real life. I’m on my own, it’s all on me.

And for everyone who loves the NHS so much, I’m glad you won the postcode lottery. I think my next post will be about the times my immediate family members and I have been failed.