Not really on this topic but I've just spent seven years virtually unable to walk beyond shops/work, and even then in plenty of pain. It was only when I realised the docs and specialists were talking out of their arse that I started ignoring them, got a wheelchair, spent months in it and finally started to recover. Two years on I'm still working on it, but much improved thanksforasking.
A trivial complaint was magnified into something crippling by their misadvice and if I'd stayed listening to them I doubt I'd ever have recovered.
I'd even considered amputation and talked it over with the docs because it was better than the state I was in (they weren't supportive of that, perhaps the one good decision they made) [*]
So as highly as I think of the NHS and despise the US system as institutionalised muggery, I don't really trust docs now. I'd also add that with one exception, the more specialised they were the less use they were.
Now I've got to sort out my messed up mind. I don't feel connected with anything any more (this is dangerous) and I have a habit of blowing up suddenly in people's faces.
So there's my justification. I think the bitterness is deserved.
[*] This does link with the story. I reached the state that I'd rather take the hit and have some kind of resolution than have hope dangled in my face, always just beyond reach.