`During a routine examination by my GP in January a lump was discovered in my breast. I subsequently got an appointment for a mammogram in three weeks, to be followed up by a consultation. On the day I was to go for the appointment I got a phone call from the hospital to say it was cancelled. I was never told exactly why, but that it was up to me to keep phoning until I could get another one. Eventually I got one, 10 days later.
I was obviously very worried, and I was due to sit the final exams for my degree at the end of May. I didn't start taking things personally really until I went for my follow-up appointment. When I got there I was told the consultant was away and I would be seen by the registrar.
I sat in the office and a young man came in. He hung up his coat at the back of the door, blundered over to the desk, shuffled a few files, went back out and never at any stage said a word to me. When he came back in he said "Well the results are not through yet, but we will carry on anyway". I asked why and he said that there were not enough radiologists in the department. He told me we would go ahead with the next step - a fine needle aspiration.
He told me to strip to the waist and he would get a nurse. I still did not know who he was. He did the procedure and afterwards when I was left to dress I was really upset. The nurse could see that, but all she did was ask me did I examine my breasts regularly, which I felt was a bit academic at that stage.
Then I said to the doctor that I could not believe I was being treated like that. I asked him his name. I said I felt very upset. I said that if I was a private patient I felt he would be speaking to me in a very different way and the results would be there. He said: "I'm sorry you feel like this."
The following week I was setting out again for the hospital and the secretary, who was nice, rang to warn me the results were still not through. At that stage I just exploded. I rang patient services in the hospital and explained what had happened. When I got to the hospital I noticed I was treated in a different way, quite elaborately.
DURING that visit I was told by a different doctor, "It needs to come out and we'll do that within three weeks or so." I told him that I just couldn't go on like this and that I had my exams coming up. He went off and when he came back he said an appointment had been made but he had to warn me that a bed might not be available. So I was left knowing the procedure had to be done but not when - it was like Chinese torture. I went to my GP in a terrible state. We discussed my going to another hospital but I felt I would just be back at the start.
On the morning of my appointment I went to the hospital. I had a visit finally from the consultant and also his registrar who I had seen the first day. I said I felt I had not been treated like a human being. The consultant was utterly defensive. He said his colleague was a very caring doctor. What a time for them both to tackle me. I couldn't help but think about how they would tackle me when I was unconscious.
I ended up going up for the surgery without any idea what they were going to do, or how deformed my breast was going to be. It seems incredible now that it went that far and I did not know that. As it happened it was a very neat scar. After about an hour back in the ward, I was out on the street because the day ward was closing but luckily a friend was coming to collect me.
A week later I went back and the consultant simply said "This was clear". I asked if it was likely to happen again and he said "Yes". He looked at my wound, said it was alright and said he would send a report to my doctor.
If at that stage he had acted in a civilised manner I might have left it there. But he was pig ignorant, even though he says he acted without rancour in our last meeting. I complained to the hospital and also to the Medical Council.
I'm fairly assertive, yet I let this happen to me. What must it be like for other less assertive people? I just couldn't understand it. My feeling at all times was that had if I been able to detach my malfunctioning part and send it in for treatment unattached to a sentient being it would have suited all practitioners better.
I have no reason to question the expertise of the medical treatment I received. The time required to acknowledge a patient's anxiety and explain treatment in a courteous manner is not greater than that required to be rude, discourteous, insensitive and dehumanising. To treat with disdain those who are at their most vulnerable is a shameful abuse of privilege. I do know from speaking since then to other women with similar problems that they appear to be treated far better in other hospitals. I suspect that poverty was my critical error. I am dependent on public health and I live in a society where care is a marketable commodity, not a basic human right. Had I been a private patient I would probably have been considered worthy of some degree of respect.