My first fight with a doctor happened when I was 19 years old.
My mother took me to this doctor because I’d received a diagnosis of dysplasia, which is considered a pre-cancerous condition. An RN who worked at the University of Chicago hospital at the time, my mother rather predictably freaked out at my diagnosis, which is why I didn’t want to tell her in the first place. However, I was smart enough to know I needed her help with this, so I included her.
She chose a well respected specialist in gynecology at the U of C, and off we went.Read More