Dr. Prathima Chaloori, MD

"How’d it go?" 
"I don’t know. I felt lousy, I hadn’t slept in 2 weeks. I'd seen Dr T 10 years & I liked him; I told her he'd lost his license & felt she feigned not knowing of him; it was the 2nd time I was suspicious of her.” 
"What d’ya mean?" 
“She'd just asked about my homelife; ‘I have a partner,’ & she'd grunted. At 70 I figured I was enured to it all. So ignorant for a professional! I bet she told friends she saw a f**n f**t today." 
"Big deal, you call them f**n neanderthals." 
"Yeah," I chuckled, "A f**n neanderthal grunted at me."
Everything became an argument. She threw a nutty that I take CBD! A doctor! She asked if I drink or do drugs. I’d earlier said I prefer pot, so 'no, & no.' After some small talk, she asked again. I looked at her; "No." "There’s no time you...just get away and…" "No." I described my migraines, confusion, weakness, blurred sight, equilibrium off and of course pain, so bad I can’t even get to the kitchen sometimes for fresh water, nevermind little fixits around the house; measure and cut boards, pound nails. "You hate fixits?" Nearly yelling, "I LOVE fixits!" "You aren’t happy with your life there are you?" Everything was leading toward negative answers. We moved there in ’89. “It's my first home, my family home; I cared for my folks for 20 years; I love it & will die there." 


At Another appt, I was in a great mood, hardly any headache. I was happy, smiling & said "THIS is my personality." By the time she was done I had a "4" & felt like s**t; I’d hoped to get us on a positive path, but she’d managed to stay her course. The rebound headache would worsen after I’d left & started thinking. 


And at another appt, I said I was always in great shape. "you were out of shape." It stunned me. "I was in great shape." "You were out of shape." Well, like the grunt it was a GFY moment, but I said, "how do you…you don’t even know me." "Your VA letter said you sit & stare." I got a 100% disab in 2012 but no Tylenol#3 — these are totally debilitating & I'd told them how that affected me. That particular day I wrote that I was in in pain I s&s’d, but usually read internet newssites or rsearched, and watched tv. For the 15 years before Dr T, 7 promising years after my '86 IRS disab, these 2 doctors labelled me a fake, only after drugs, and d/c’d my Tylenol#3, sparingly taken; 15 years, no pain meds, & she can't discern out of shape vs f**n debilitated. My parents & the house & yard took all my strength. I slept just a few hours a night. "Do you drink?" For 20 years I'd had a beer a night. For ten, none; 30 years. Didn't toke '89-'02, and I took another year off in 2006, 6 months in ’08. "No.” 
She says I shirked my responsibilities, house, yard & caretaking. I was ripping. I said you’re wrong; you’re wrong, you’re wrong. I told her we were a family & I took wonderful care of them. Then she implied I caused my troubles with heavy drinking & drugs when I was young. I said simply I was a low-moderate drinker, & it irked her. We argued about it. She knows one of the doctors, I concluded. She just didn’t know me & had no reason to be saying these things. 


In my last appt, I told her time & again I had a bad migraine; I hadn’t slept, worrying about this appt, hadn’t eaten enough, didn't have my glasses, but she pushed questionaires at me; she was negative & impatient. I have a dissociative disorder; at one point I lowered my head & said, "I’m not doing well;" then to myself, 'finally a doctor will see me like this,' but she ignored me & backed away. "D'you drink?" "No." "Oh yeah I forgot." My glaring eyes said, "FU." I reminded myself that I'd planned to confront her, but couldn't get the words past the pain. My psyche was splitting. 'She’s my enemy, I’m all done, no more cooperating. Get through it & get out and be finished.’ This was abuse & civil rights territory. She peppered me with questions & accusations. 'You drank a lot, partied, did drugs.' 'No.' "What drugs did you take, tell me what drugs! What drugs did you take!” She said drugs and drinking caused all my problems, and I answered that my only problems were when her buddies took my pain med away. She was cutting me apart for all of my life, denouncing my character, and I only remember saying defensively that “I think I was a pretty nice guy.” Lost in pain & confusion, things shot by left to right in my head...times I'd seen drugs, guys taking drugs, being offered drugs. I'd done one 3 times in my life, at 23 in college, & 30 & 32 in bed. Satisfying, all, but I never wanted more. My mind cyclonic, with no idea what she was firing at me, I screamed in a feral voice, "BECAUSE I DIDN'T LIKE THEM!" That’d become my first flashback. 
She was done & I was a wreck; embarrassed, ashamed, feeling abused I left in a daze, walking past without looking at her, didn’t shake the monster’s hand, down the hallway, through the large lobby, finally gone; & feeling the same outside, got in my truck and made my way home. For 2 years our Viet vet with PTSD, migraines & some dis-dis has had new flashbacks, thanks to another doctor who knew she was right.

        Google: “PTSD Chronic migraines dissociative disorder.” 

None of my doctors ever have. I have always thought that a doctor’s cardinal sin is using their position against a patient. But in my Google I found an expert who hit it right. The cardinal sin is using a patient’s condition against him. That was her sin. She brought me so far inside myself that it still scares me to think I might need to go that deep to retrieve them. She violated my civil rights.

I called and left a 4-part angry message at her office 27 months after I’d last seen her, one year after I’d finally let the frightening flashbacks begin to emerge, when my prescriptions ran out and I’d been left a message saying they could not be renewed until I came back for a visit. 
Covid had given me my 2-year reprieve. I said I was not coming back, that she had harmed me, and bragging that I’d remained a gentleman throughout her torturous reign, I proudly and assuredly told her at last that “you’re   fired!” It was relieving and freeing, and frightening to think of introducing myself to another stranger here at the end of a 36-year saga. 

The Chaloori story is over; my one consolation is I got to tell her to GFH. 

"When did you do that?" 

"I just did."