Workshop Woes and Ghosting

So previously, I mentioned that I was scheduled for a group workshop, led by none other than my dreaded mental health counselor. Three, weekly, two-hour session with her. I hoped that maybe she'd be better in a group setting.

The first week of workshop, I thought I was late, and as I hustled into the room, it was just DMHC (dreaded mental health counselor) standing there. "I thought I was late," I told her. She replied, "I was starting to think no one was coming." I got a lump in my throat thinking that I'd have to spend the next two hours in a one-on-one session with her. Fortunately, someone else slinked in, also thinking they were late.

Fifteen minutes past the hour, we started the session with half the participants. More people trickled in as it went on, and one person came in halfway through the session. I wasn't fully sure what the point of the workshop was, as it basically reviewed everything that we had been through with the dietitian in our previous one-on-one sessions. But, I sat, I listened, I shared my eating habits and snack foods.

Again, I felt chastised in the workshop. DMHC just came across as scolding us, constantly. "You know you can't do this; you know you can't do that." There was a negative tone to everything she said, and by the end of the two hours I felt deflated and defeated. She then reminded us that we have two more sessions to go, and that after our surgeries, we would engage in more sessions with HER for five years as part of our on-going support.

FIVE YEARS? WITH HER? My heart sank. I barely remember what she said after that. Something about a Facebook group to join; I went through the motions and joined while sitting there. But I couldn't get past this feeling of dread. Five years with her?

Then came the check-ins before we were dismissed. Did everyone have their labs done? "Stacy, did you have your pulmonology appointment?" No, no one contacted me. I've been waiting for someone to call me like you said. "Well, you should have called the office if you didn't hear from us," she scolded me, in front of the entire group of women. Anger and embarrassment flooded me; I'm a grown woman. Do not lecture me like that. But, I bit my tongue and didn't say anything. I never do.

So, I left the meeting room and went straight to the receptionist to see what's going on. "I don't see anything in your file about needing any referrals for anything, dear," she told me. "I'll make a note for your surgeon's assistant to contact you ASAP." I inquired if she was available to speak to now—she wasn't—so I thanked the receptionist and went on my way.

Once I got back to the office, I also put in a message on the app, asking about the referral. By the time the next workshop rolled around, I could see that the message had been read, but no response came. I completed the next workshop and was once again scolded for not having done the pulmonology appointment. I once again explained that no one has been able to help me. I asked if I could see ANY pulmonologist or if I need to see a specific one. "Well, you need our order to show which tests we require." OK, I asked if I could get that. "The assistant will be in touch," DMHC replied.

Week three, workshop three, and still no resolution to the pulmonology issue. This time, I wasn't scolded. I asked about it first. "The assistant will be in touch." At the end of the workshop, which is supposed to be our final step in getting approved for surgery, DMHC went around the room to see who has been cleared for surgery. Only one of the five women had been cleared medically; naturally, when she got to me, she skipped me. "I know your situation."

When I finished the final workshop, I asked again at the receptionist desk about the referral. "I'll have the assistant contact you."

I left that day and never heard from the program again.