I cried watching this. I cried for Jennifer. For everything she has been through and everything she continues to deal with.
I cried for myself. For all the times I was dismissed by doctors. For all the times I heard the words “There is definitely something wrong with you, but it doesn’t have anything to do with [insert next random medical speciality here]”. For all the times my mother was asked to leave a doctor’s surgery so they could ensure I had not failed to disclose some deep psychological trauma due to her presence.
I cried for all the times I reached out to the medical profession only to be turned away.
I also cried for all of those who have yet to find help.
I am one of the lucky ones. Eventually, I found doctors who listened, who said they wouldn’t give up. I found doctors who took the time to find out what was wrong with me and what they could do to help.
I should not have to call myself lucky. Finding doctors like this, who listen, who investigate, who don’t give up. This should be the norm.