How to Advocate for Yourself at the Doctor’s Office Without Apologizing

If you have known me long enough, you know I’ve had my share of health issues. For a long time, I suffered with insulin resistance, high blood pressure, and more. I have always been diligent about doing everything in my power to take care of myself, but eventually I hit a wall. And that was not for lack of treatment or effort. It happened because the doctors I was seeing simply were not ready to listen to my concerns.

I want to make something very clear before I continue. This is not meant as a judgment of medical professionals or as criticism of the medical profession. I am simply relating my experience with certain people.

It happened so many times that I eventually went and learned everything I could about my health issues so I could make informed decisions and ask the right questions. And still, I was minimized.

There is an uncomfortable balance in advocating for your own health. I am not a physician. I don’t have medical training, and reading about my conditions does not give me the expertise of someone who spent years studying and practicing medicine.

But there was something I did know that no one else in that room could know in quite the same way: what it was like to live in my body every day.

I was the one waking up in pain every single day. I was the one who had no energy left after a Pilates class and had to lie down before I could go on with my day. I was living all of it, and being told to do more, try harder, or “do the work” felt condescending. I was doing the work. I was doing everything I could, and I was still getting nowhere.

What I learned was that doctors bring medical expertise. They went to medical school. They understand diseases, physiology, and treatment in ways I do not. But I was the only person who knew what I was experiencing every day. So I started changing the way I talked to them.

I needed someone to tell me what was happening and give me a solution. But medicine doesn’t always work that way. Sometimes there isn’t an obvious answer. Sometimes the first treatment doesn’t work. Sometimes the symptoms don’t fit neatly into the explanation we already have.

And that was particularly difficult for me. I have an engineer’s brain. I wanted to understand the system, identify what wasn’t working, and fix it. Here I was living in a body that felt increasingly “broken,” looking for an answer that nobody seemed able to give me.

Eventually, I realized that advocating for myself didn’t mean I needed to walk into the room with the answer. I needed to make sure the right questions—and all of the relevant information—stayed in the room long enough for us to look at them.

I started asking how the disease process was working in my body and how the medication was supposed to help. I asked what my bloodwork meant, what the practical goal of treatment was, what we were looking for, and what I should watch for at home. Eventually, instead of simply being directed, I was participating in the conversation.

What I learned was that agency doesn’t simply mean asking questions. It means participating, discussing, understanding, and investigating. Agency can look like a partnership between patients and doctors working toward a common goal. Because the goal is not simply to treat a disease. It is to treat a patient.

In practice, that changed the questions I asked. Instead of only asking what I should do, I started asking what we were trying to accomplish. What should I expect to change if a treatment is working? What should I watch for at home? What does a particular bloodwork result mean in the context of everything else? And if something isn’t working, what would we consider next?

I also learned to stop apologizing for those questions. Asking for clarification is not questioning someone’s expertise. Saying that something isn’t working is not being difficult. Bringing information about what is happening outside the exam room is not an inconvenience. It is information your medical team cannot have unless you provide it.

You don’t have to walk into your doctor’s office knowing the answer. You don’t have to diagnose yourself or arrive armed for battle. But you do belong in the conversation. Your doctor brings medical expertise. You bring the experience of living in your body. Good care needs both.