Lissa's Note: I sobbed when I read this post because I was once one of those non-listening doctors, and I too have been one of those patients who felt dismissed by her physicians. Dr. Nicola Holmes tells her story below about being the patient, feeling dismissed, and being left to chart her own course. I couldn't help remembering being eight hours post-op from my C-section, after nonstop vomiting and severe dehydration that was leaving me without any urine in my catheter. I finally called my doctor at home - we're friends - so she could rescue me. It was midnight. I knew she was tired. And I know she thought she was helping when she told the nurses I had her permission to write my own orders. So I spent my first post-op/postpartum night (while my father was dying, incidentally), writing the orders for my IV fluids, my nausea and pain meds, and how often my vital signs needed to be checked, all while trying to breast feed for the first time. I felt totally alone, completely abandoned to chart my own course, and I left the hospital the next day, figuring I might as well take care of myself at home. I'm getting choked up just thinking about it, and I know I'm not alone. 

It's up to us to change this. Seeing the doctor should ease suffering, not incite it. 

In a few short days the month of September will be upon us.  As I type these words, I can physically feel my stomach flip-flopping and a knot beginning to form.  What’s wrong with September you ask?  Technically … nothing  … I do enjoy the last days of summer and the soon-to-be fall weather.

But my oldest daughter’s birthday and the day she died are both in the month of September.  September brings up so many memories … both the good and the painful.

I’ve always been a please and thank you kinda gal. I’ll interrupt the dinner conversation to genuinely thank the busser for refilling my water glass, and make eye contact when expressing gratitude that a stranger held the elevator for me. But I’ve never been one to truly examine what I’m grateful for in my, you know, life. In fact, I kind of have an upchuck reaction when I hear things like “gratitude journal” or “gratitude practice” – it puts the woo in woo-woo, and the rebellious teenager in me wants to roll my eyes and scoff. Psh, whatevs.

But I come to you today a fully blown convert. A changed woman. Two woos just aren’t enough – my life calls for woo cubed. And what better week than that of Thanksgiving to finally own this facet of my life?

My name is Lauren Nagel, and I’m a gratitude-a-holic.