Health professionals get frustrated with me and misinterpret my attempts at communication. The thought of talking to a doctor now brings a wave of panic because my experience this year has been so terrible.

Human Bean‘s #MadCovidDiaries – Week 13: June 15th to June 21st

TW: iatrogenic trauma, ableism 

It’s diary day. I don’t feel like talking today. I guess that’s a good reason to have a set day to update, it’s more representative of my mood than if I just updated when I felt like it. 

Looong exhale. 

I’m writing this on Sunday and it’s Father’s Day here in the UK. I had a phonecall with my dad this morning. He said he loves and misses me. I don’t think he’s ever been that affectionate before. I had a cry after I’d hung up. 

I helped the kids make cards and we gave my partner a book. I slept terribly last night but managed to get up and give him a lay in this morning. Although I’m exhausted it did put me in a good mood to be able to do something nice for him. We got takeaway pizza on Friday too, which I really enjoyed. 

I think the hardest part of this week was trying to contact my GP for an update on my surgery situation. I had worked myself up to do it for weeks and in the end I sent a message through their website. I got a vague voicemail back from a receptionist and I’m none the wiser. So that was a waste of energy and anxiety. I’ve just realised I’m quite angry about it, actually, and it makes me worried about accessing GP services in the future if that’s the norm now. 

This week I’ve set myself the task of contacting the outpatients department to see if I fare any better. I’m really anxious and I don’t know where to start. I’m autistic and I feel like I need someone to break down the task into steps so I know how to do it and what to say. But I don’t have anyone to help me with that stuff. 

Medical services are frightening for me because I don’t present at surface level as someone who is struggling. I seem like I’m articulate. Health professionals get frustrated with me and misinterpret my attempts at communication. The thought of talking to a doctor now brings a wave of panic because my experience this year has been so terrible. They need better training on not judging everyone by neurotypical standards. 

The best thing that happened this week was a queer reading group I joined in with online. I’m really looking forward to reading the next book and chatting about it. I feel so much less isolated with the virtual socialising events that are on each week. I really fear these sort of activities coming to an end though. The accessibility has changed my life, as even pre covid I really struggled to go anywhere.

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