Things I'd like to tell my health care professional

I had to endure organised health care again today. Here are 7 things I wish I had the guts to tell my healthcare professional....

1. Do NOT lecture me in a patronising way about my activity levels whilst you sitting on a bottom so big it bends space-time. I have no problem with people or even health care professionals being fat, I, myself, am morbidly voluptuous and so are a number of my lovely (and healthy) friends. I think there are a lot worse things to be, evil for example, or vindictive, or a contestent on Britain's Got Talent, but don't presume to lecture me about exercise when you are obviously as fat and un-fit as I am. Why not try empathising instead?

2. Do NOT use 'we' when actually you mean 'me. For example, 'we need to get onto a strict diet' Fine, you start and let me know how that turns out for you, I'll join in later after I've finished this cake. Including me in the health focussed "we' doesn't make me feel like we are a team, it makes me feel like a toddler, and we all know how diligent and responsible 3 year-olds can be don't we?

3. Don't assue that everyone who comes through your door has the intellectual capacity of a cheese sandwich - I'm actually quite clever and I bet I'm not the only smart person on your patient list so explaining the causes of diabetic neuropathy as ' when the sugar floats round in your blood some of it sticks to the ends of your nerves and that means messages for your brain can't be heard properly' only makes me think you have a very shaky grasp of biochemistry and neurophysiology and doubt your competence both as a reasoning human being and a qualified health care professional.

4. Listen to what I mean as well as what I say - When I tell you I don't eat breakfast because I leave for work at 5.45 in the morning, I'm telling you that I don't much want to eat in what, for most people, is still the middle of the night. Suggesting getting up 10 minutes earlier so that I can make porridge? Not helpful!

5. Try not to be too obviously astonished that I am stil functioning -  Being so blatantly surprised that I am still working full time (I know, I know - I'm a miracle!!), in fact even asking the question, does not endear you to me. Richard Feynman was almost 70 when he sat on the enquiry into the Challenger space shuttle diaster and no-one batted an eyelid, and Sir John Gurdon, the 2012 Nobel Prize winner for medicine is 79 so clearly old does not necessarily mean useless or infirm.  At 53, I like to think I can pull off full time academia without causing too much shock and awe amongst the healthcare profession so your surprise confuses me.

6. Do NOT make appointments for me without consulting me - You may think you are being helpful but I do have a life and a job outside of my diagnosis and your assumption that my real life is secondary to your need to evaluate and categorise me is insulting. Also know that, when you do that, I WILL tell you I can't attend whether I actually can or not.

7. SEE ME - Look at who I am, ask me about myself, Amazon has managed to get to know me pretty well and and I spend less time with them than with you. Help me to think about how my life will impact upon my diagnosis (not the other way round, which seems to be how you view it) then tailor your help and information to what I need. I know sticking to your pre-prepared script is comforting and safe but in the long term actually seeing your patients will be much more rewarding.