Dear Doc (a letter from a disaffected patient)

Dear Doc,

I'm writing this letter here because I don't want to blow up at you on Thursday.

Last Wednesday, I went into the hospital to have the Rolling Stones evicted from my left kidney. This was after three failed lithotripsy attempts and one uteroscopy where the stone in my right kidney passed before you got to it. You told me surgery was the best bet for removing my large pointy stones and I agreed. You're the doctor, I'm the patient and I trusted you to do right by my health.

What followed was a week in my life that I have absolutely no intent of repeating---ever. I awoke from one procedure in such excruciating pain that there were concerns I was bleeding internally. Did you, did anyone, call my husband? No. He found out that bit from me much later. And when I came out of the second procedure, you told me the stones were gone. I was relieved.

Turns out, I shouldn't have been. Two CAT-scans later, I found out there were some smaller stones left (less than one centimeter, I believe) but I didn't find that out from you. I found that out from a nurse---and awesome nurse, to be sure, but she wasn't my doctor. You were. Yet you didn't bother to tell me, your patient. You didn't call my husband when I developed pneumonia in the hospital. In fact, you didn't call at all. Your part in my care was done, and the rest, you could have cared less about. Nice going. Do they teach Basic Insensitivity 101 in medical school, or what?

Now I hear that you want to see me to discuss "further treatment options." My first reponse, to be honest, is "Bite me." You waltz in, you do a procedure, you're done. Every single procedure you've done on my kidney has meant a minimum of three days off work for me---and that's three days away from my family, feeling crappy, and it's time I'm not willing to waste while you figure out what you're going to do next.

So, just to make sure you understand. No surgery. Not ever again. I have a life, and if I'm very, very lucky, I'll live the rest of it without ever again being in the same OR with you.

Signed,

A Disaffected Patient