A Nashville Song of Gratitude: When Doctors Harmonize Like a Perfect Chorus

A Thank You Letter to the Doctors Who Get It Right

This post stands on its own, but if you'd like to read about my recent Nashville medical journeys, you can find those posts here: A Different Kind of Nashville Blues and Another Nashville Song: When Hope & Heartbreak Harmonize

 

In a healthcare system that often feels like it's designed to exhaust patients before it heals them, I want to tell you about two doctors who remind me that exceptional care still exists. Not because they have all the answers, though I wish they did, but because they understand that treating a person is about so much more than prescribing pills.

Dr. Peltier: Twenty+ Years of Staying in the Game

My first encounter with Dr. Amanda Peltier happened over twenty years ago, when I was a research patient in Vanderbilt's Autonomic Clinic. Picture this: I'm stuck in the research wing of the old hospital, blocks away from where I needed to be for a QSART test. After multiple failed attempts to get someone to transport me, Dr. Peltier did what apparently no other doctor would consider - she walked across campus, collected me herself, and wheeled me to the test.

During the test, I watched my results appear on the screen; a nearly flatlined graph that meant nothing to my untrained eye. In my blissful ignorance, I commented, "I don't know how you guys ever learn to read these tests," assuming the challenge was in interpreting squiggly lines.

Dr. Peltier laughed and said, "Well, this one's easy. It's not SUPPOSED to look like this."

My heart sank. "Oh... so it's my body that's difficult, not the test."

Looking back, that moment captures everything about chronic illness; that crushing realization when you discover your body's betrayal runs deeper than you knew. But it also captures everything about Dr. Peltier. She didn't sugarcoat the results, but she delivered them with kindness. My right leg's results were so abnormal that she decided to test my left leg as well (normally, they only test one leg). She explained each step, ensuring I understood without making me feel like a burden, and she took the extra time needed to fully evaluate.

Over the past two decades, Dr. Peltier has been the constant in my ever-changing medical landscape. Dr. Amanda, as many of her patients affectionately call her, has never dismissed me, never made me feel like my complex case was an inconvenience, and never suggested that "undiagnosed" means "imaginary." This validation became especially meaningful after an encounter with a primary care doctor back home who tried to imply that my depression (following the unexpected loss of family members, combined with my own declining health) was the "real" problem. She condescendingly tapped my head and told me, "THIS is what you need to focus on... and try not to fall." Dr. Peltier's affirmation that, of course, it's normal to feel some depression with all of this, but that doesn't make my physical symptoms imaginary, soothed deep frustration. Finally, I felt seen and understood. When my condition worsens or I hit a crisis, she works with me. When standard approaches don't fit, she thinks outside the box. She's mastered the art of the genuine hug - something that might sound small until you've spent years being treated like a walking symptom list instead of a human being.


Perhaps most importantly, Dr. Peltier has "stayed in the game." In a medical world where doctors often disappear when they can't provide quick fixes, she's remained committed to my care for over twenty years. That kind of consistency means everything when you're navigating the wilderness of both a known and an unknown diagnosis.


Enter Dr. Eaton: The Perfect Teammate

When I started declining again after my COVID vaccine, raising new questions about my symptoms, Dr. Peltier didn't hesitate. "Are we sure I don't have MS?" I asked. Instead of brushing off my concerns, she ran tests. When they came back abnormal, she immediately brought in Dr. James Eaton, who specializes in MS and neuroimmunology at Vanderbilt Medical Center.

For the past two years, Dr. Eaton has been the perfect complement to Dr. Peltier's care. He's another exceptional listener who documents my symptoms thoroughly - something that might sound basic until you've sat across from doctors who can barely be bothered to look up from their computers. Given the complexity of my condition and the shocking number of physicians who treat documentation like an optional hobby, Dr. Eaton's attention to detail feels revolutionary.

Dr. Eaton also has the perfect balance of medical seriousness and humor. During one particular appointment, he looked at me and said, "You're not crazy, at least about this. You might be about other things." He paused for effect, then continued: "And this IS in your head - meaning your brain lives there - but you're not crazy. A patient has a right to as many diagnoses as they have, so in theory, you could have a rare disease AND still be crazy, but you're not crazy."

Leave it to a neurologist to deliver reassurance with a side of perfectly timed medical humor.

The Art of Quality-of-Life Care

Here's what sets these Vanderbilt doctors apart from the pack: not only are they knowledgeable and highly skilled, they also understand that care extends far beyond pills and procedures. They recognize that when you're dealing with chronic illness, quality-of-life issues often matter just as much as medications, sometimes more.

Both doctors understand that I'm not a difficult person; it's my case that presents a challenge. They make me feel like I deserve excellent care, a sadly revolutionary concept in a healthcare system where complex patients are often treated like walking inconveniences to be shuffled elsewhere as quickly as possible.

Too many doctors operate under the assumption that if they can't offer a cure, they can't offer value. Dr. Peltier and Dr. Eaton understand that patients with chronic illnesses need ongoing support, even when, especially when, there's no magic solution. They coordinate my care efficiently, making sure I'm connected with the right specialists when needed, and ensuring I have access to experts who understand my genetic variants and how they affect medication dosing.

The contrast became crystal clear during a recent encounter with a specialist at another major teaching hospital in my hometown. This doctor told me my case was too complex for my current provider and insisted I switch my care to him for better coordination. When I asked if they had someone who could review medications in relation to my genetic variants (explaining that Vanderbilt had connected me with exactly that kind of person), he shrugged and said, "We probably do, but just use what you've got at Vandy."

Wait, what? I just explained I needed more resources in my home state. You just told me to switch my care to you for better coordination, but when I need actual coordination, you... shrug?

Meanwhile, back at Vanderbilt, Dr. Peltier and Dr. Eaton proactively ensure I have the resources I need. Together, they've created a safety net of care that goes far beyond their individual specialties.

The "How Are You Doing?" Dance

I've mastered the chronic illness performance art of answering "How are you doing?" with "Fine!" even when I've just spent ten minutes crying in the bathroom from pain levels that would send most people to the ER. It's a social script I follow because the truth is often too heavy for casual conversation.

But Dr. Peltier and Dr. Eaton see through the performance. They don't back away when my carefully constructed "fine" crumbles and tears start flowing during an appointment. They don't mistake emotional exhaustion for weakness, because let's be honest, anyone who thinks crying equals weakness has clearly never tried to lug multiple pieces of medical equipment in and out of cars and hotel rooms across state lines while managing pain levels that fluctuate like stock market prices.

After all, a weakling couldn't endure dozens of tests, travel hundreds of miles for medical care, and carry the daily weight of managing a complex condition with grace. These doctors understand that tears aren't a sign of giving up; they're often a sign of someone who's been holding it together longer than humanly reasonable.

The Ripple Effect of Exceptional Care

Having doctors like Dr. Peltier and Dr. Eaton makes a significant difference. They've shown me what healthcare can look like when providers see patients as whole human beings deserving of dignity, thorough care, and honest communication. They've never given up on finding answers, and when standard approaches fall short, they team up and bring in additional resources.

This kind of care creates a ripple effect. When you're treated with respect and competence, you remember what you deserve from the medical system. When doctors validate that your daily life is harder than their inability to provide immediate answers, you stop accepting dismissive care as normal.

A Message to Medical Professionals

If you're a doctor, nurse, or other healthcare professional reading this, please know that patient care extends far beyond diagnosis and prescription. The small acts of validation, the willingness to coordinate with other providers, the respect you show for patients' time and intelligence, the forms you fill out that help us navigate daily life - these things matter enormously. You have the power to make someone feel seen and valued, or dismissed and burdensome. Dr. Peltier and Dr. Eaton have chosen the former, and it has made all the difference in my journey through chronic illness.

A Message of Gratitude and Hope

Dr. Peltier and Dr. Eaton, if you're reading this: thank you. Thank you for seeing me as a person worthy of excellent care. Thank you for staying curious when others give up. Thank you for understanding that quality-of-life issues matter immensely, even when cures remain elusive. Thank you for your genuine warmth, clinical excellence, and refusal to see complex cases as inconveniences.

In an era when healthcare providers are overwhelmed and underappreciated, please know that your dedication doesn't go unnoticed. The work you do behind the scenes—the coordination, advocacy, careful documentation, and after-hours thinking about complex cases—makes an enormous difference in patients' lives. You carry a tremendous load with grace, and that deserves recognition.

To my fellow patients still searching for doctors who truly care: they exist. Dr. Peltier and Dr. Eaton are proof that exceptional physicians are out there - doctors who will listen, advocate, coordinate, and treat you like you deserve excellent care even when your case doesn't fit textbook patterns.

Don't settle for doctors who make you feel like a burden. Keep looking until you find providers who see your worth, who stay curious about your condition, and who understand that good medicine is about so much more than prescriptions. And when you find doctors like these, tell them. In a healthcare system that often focuses on what's broken, taking time to celebrate what's working well benefits everyone, including giving your own immune system a boost through the power of gratitude!

Sometimes the best medicine isn't a pill at all. Sometimes it's simply being seen, heard, and treated like you matter. Dr. Peltier and Dr. Eaton have mastered that prescription, and for that, I am endlessly grateful. ❤️

Thanks for walking this messy, complicated path with me.

Here's to making invisible battles a little less lonely, one story at a time.

Keep fighting the good fight,
Meagan 🍫

Creatively Visible | Making invisible battles visible

 
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Another Nashville Song: When Hope and Heartbreak Harmonize