This changing my mind thing is a continuing feature of this blog (and my life) so if you’re tired of it stop here.
To avoid being treated like a useless nothing it came to me that I should detach myself as much as possible from the medical system and step one was to embark on an unscientific study of what happens when I reduce my meds to prolong the periods of time between trips to the doctor to get my prescriptions filled. I know this sounds stupid but going to the doctor has become a declaration of total failure of myself as a person. What other type of person would submit themselves to the care of people who have no use for who you are–and in fact insist you admit your worthlessness and inability to understand the world to them personally and in a couple of cases have blandly pointed out that if I don’t like it, it’s no worry of theirs if I just walk away.
It would be paranoid to say directly that since there is only ONE health-care provider in the whole province of Alberta that offering walking away as an alternative is to say I’m welcome to go and die somewhere. That, well, does seem a bit extreme–even if it does feel like the truth. So lets just say these people are so tired of sickness and the way it twists a person around that they are no longer willing to “put up with it” and if you want help you’ll get the same treatment a clerk at a hardware store would give to an unreasonable customer. And accept it because that’s all there is.
Since I believe I shouldn’t have to debase myself in order to stay alive, my strategy was to detach but the prescription thing needs to resume. My heart, in spite being scar tissue, implanted valves and surgical mesh is still vulnerable to stopping and starting at will without meds. Strangely, headaches, ringing ears, dizziness and even arthritis in my hands and joints came back almost immediately. All of this is normal, but much enhanced by lack of medication.
So, always full of plans and schemes, the next play is to stay on the meds, endure the useless check-ups once every 3 months and pick-up my prescription renewals. The 3 month cycle is mandated by the insurance company that covers my medication costs and not based on some sort of care plan. IF I ever bother to bring up a problem there’s no time to investigate and if there are messages from my specialists that haven’t been lost, I always get them months too late to act on anyway. This streamlined scheduling has advantages in that I can substantially reduce the physical pain at a small investment of time while enduring the minimal amount of disrespect the system seems unable to resist delivering.
What amazes me is given the high level of training over a long period of time going into medical education, that being a caring person isn’t considered a necessary prerequisite to medical school. Sure, it’s a shame to turn away all that tuition money by rejecting someone who’s only limitation is lack of empathy–it’s a lot of money I hear. And maybe that’s the point? Medicine is just a business in the unique position of having customers who must put up with whatever service level medicine feels like offering? Add to this the pressures of work overload that medicine appears to value as a proof of expertise more important than care and it’s not surprising that medicine fails to support human needs.