In this heartfelt open letter, April shares what she wishes every doctor, nurse, and medical professional understood about life with chronic illness.

This isn’t a rant — it’s a reminder that compassion and curiosity are just as vital as prescriptions.

From the frustration of being dismissed to the healing power of the words “I believe you,” this episode invites providers — and patients — to reimagine what true care looks like.

🩵 In This Episode, You’ll Hear:

• What patients with chronic illness wish their doctors truly understood
• How years of being dismissed or doubted impact trust and mental health
• What compassionate, trauma-informed care actually looks like
• Why belief and empathy are forms of medicine too
• A personal story of one doctor who changed everything with four words: “I believe you.”

If this episode resonates with you, share it with a doctor, nurse, or friend who could use this reminder.

Let’s start more conversations rooted in empathy — because real change begins with understanding.

🔗 Links & Resources

• 🌸 Join The Unseen Sisterhood Newsletter — for community, stories, and chronic illness support
• 💗 Follow April on Instagram | TikTok
• 🎧 Listen to more episodes of The Invisible Illness Club Podcast

TRANSCRIPTION

Hey friend — today’s episode is not a rant. It’s not a pity party.
It’s an open letter.
 
To the doctors, nurses, specialists, and medical staff who hold so much of our trust in their hands — this one’s for you.
It’s what I wish you knew about people like me.
 
I’ve spent more hours in waiting rooms than I can count.
I’ve memorized the pattern of those ceiling tiles, the chill of the paper gown, the weight of hoping this time will be different.
That maybe this doctor will see me — not just my labs, not just the weird constellation of symptoms in their chart.
 
People like me… we don’t want to be “difficult.”
We’re not trying to waste your time or argue with your plan.
We’re exhausted from years of fighting to be heard.
 
We’ve been told “you’re too young,” “too anxious,” “too sensitive.”
We’ve watched our pain be minimized, our symptoms doubted, our bodies treated like puzzles that must be solved quickly — or dismissed entirely when the pieces don’t fit neatly together.
 
What I wish you knew is that by the time we reach your office, we’ve already tried everything.
We’ve googled, journaled, changed our diets, tracked our sleep, prayed, cried, and begged for relief.
We are not starting at zero — we’re starting from exhaustion.
 
Every test, every new medication, every “let’s wait and see”… it all costs us something — time, energy, hope.
And hope, for someone living with chronic illness, is both a lifeline and a fragile thing.
 
So here’s what compassionate care really looks like for us:
 
It’s eye contact.
It’s you listening before assuming.
It’s saying, “I don’t know yet, but let’s figure it out together.”
It’s acknowledging the emotional weight of being sick for years without answers.
It’s trusting that we know our bodies — maybe not the Latin terms or lab codes, but we know when something isn’t right.
 
We don’t need you to fix everything.
We just need to feel safe telling you the truth about our pain without being labeled as dramatic or noncompliant.
 
Because when we feel seen, we can breathe again.
When we feel heard, we can heal — even if the diagnosis doesn’t change.
 
There was a time I almost gave up on finding care that felt human.
I was tired of crying in my car after appointments, tired of wondering if maybe it was all in my head.
But then one doctor looked me in the eye and said, “I believe you.”
And that moment — that sentence — changed everything.
 
It didn’t cure me.
But it gave me something even rarer: trust.
 
That’s what I wish every provider knew — that belief is medicine too.
 
To the doctors who do listen — thank you.
To the nurses who treat us like people, not problems — you are seen and appreciated.
And to the ones still learning how to do better — please, keep learning. Keep asking questions. Keep remembering that we’re not just data points. We’re humans doing our best to live inside unpredictable bodies.
 
And to everyone listening — if this episode spoke to you, I invite you to share it with a healthcare provider you trust.
Not to shame them, but to open a conversation.
Because real change starts with empathy — one story, one voice, one open letter at a time.

You’ve been listening to The Invisible Illness Club Podcast.
If this episode resonated with you, would you take a moment to leave a review or share it with a friend?
It helps more people find this space — and reminds others they’re not alone in it.
 
Until next time — take care of yourself, and remember: being believed is the first step toward healing.