She wasn’t cruel about it. Just surprised. A little shocked and dismayed at my lifestyle and habits. “That’s your problem.” She said honestly and firmly, responding to the comment that I am only able to eat about once to twice a day if I’m lucky. “Oh Lord you need help.”
At least when she yelled at you, it sounded cool, because she was Polish.
The doctor and I were at odds. I smile and nodded at everything she said, but in my head I kept coming up with flaws in her suggestions. I explained my lifestyle, my time limits in my schedule. The inconsistency of my work routine. How busy my days off got. “All excuses. You need to take care of yourself.” Every part of me screamed ‘tell my employers that.’ Something she would take as an excuse. Not reason.
Doctors don’t understand. They live in a world of money. They can buy what they need for their health. They work hard, and have weekends off. Vacation time. Wonderful health insurance. Usually anyway. How can they possibly know that I am making excuses? If only they had to live in my shoes for a day. With my thoughts. Feelings. Family. Job. Would they think differently? I suspect they might be more sympathetic, but for now, I guess I will just have to put up with the angry Polish woman.
...Bag O' Magic Soup 
Clearly this doctor has forgotten her days in medical school, and her days as an intern, where she likely lived then just like you do now.
Clearly. But even worse, I feel she treats people like they’re all the same, and we are not.