Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Pitting the Healthy Against the Sick

I had a troll recently go off on me. I have to say, it bothered me at first. But, bless the strangers on the internet, they defended my position, and even went so far as to deconstruct his argument showing that he was guilty of the sin he was trying to cast upon me. The only thing he proved was how much of an @$$hole he was. But he raised a very interesting point... He believed he had the right to tell other people how to live because it cost him more money on his health insurance. And that, right there, is the reason why "give my people health insurance" is a bad idea. The healthy people have to pay for the sick people. And the healthy people resent it.

This is especially true in this country, where the media claims that any health problem can be solved through "healthy living" (and buying the product they're selling). The medical profession has done a great job of smoke and mirrors, hiding how much we don't know about health. But this leaves people who haven't been through the system with the belief that the system always works for everyone, and if you didn't get better, it's your fault.

And there are some amazing myths that persist in the healthy world, about the would of the sick. They believe that doctors run excessive amounts of tests to cover their @$$ in case of liability. But how can we judge what's excessive and what's not? Right now, there's a huge debate raging on mammograms, whether or not we're putting women through cancer treatment who don't really need it, just because of something seen on the scan. But do we know that's actually what's happening? What if we're catching cancer really early and saving these women's lives? What if we're treating women for cancer, ruining their lives with chemo and other processes, who would have been fine if they were left alone? Are we doing more harm than good?

See... we don't have all the answers. Sometimes, we don't even know the right question to ask. Health care is messy. There is no neat formula to follow that will guarantee a healthy life. We're learning new things about diseases every day... things we didn't think were possible. Mother Nature is a wily character, with lots of tricks up her sleeve. There are more things in heaven and earth than we could possibly imagine. So we don't always get this health stuff right.

Then there's human error...

All told, as many as 98,000 deaths occur each year due to all kinds of medical mistakes--the equivalent of a fully packed 747 crashing every other day. According to a congressionally mandated study on Medicare recipients, during 2008, 1 in 7 hospital patients experienced at least one unintended harm that prolonged his or her stay, caused permanent injury, required life-sustaining treatment, or resulted in death.
(14 worst hospital mistakes to avoid - NBC News)

And what about when the treatment is worse than the disease? CT scans are useful in the early detection of lung cancer, but the CT scan itself causes cancer.

The risk of developing cancer from the CT scan itself isn't trivial. A recent analysis published in the Archives of Internal Medicine found that a single chest CT scan exposed patients to the radiation equivalent of more than 100 chest X-rays, and that at age 60, an estimated 1 in 1000 women or 1 in 2000 men would eventually develop cancer from that single scan. (Participants in the lung cancer screening study actually underwent three consecutive annual CT scans.)
(4 reasons to not be screened for lung cancer - Common Sense Family Doctor)

And ultimately, the problem is that "Much of medicine exists in a grey zone where there is no one right answer about when to treat and how to treat. That is why you need to figure out what applies to you and what doesn't and how you weigh risk and benefit." (How to Talk to Doctors - Freakonomics) But that doesn't work well if someone else is footing the bill. It especially doesn't work well when cost-creating behavior is "rewarded" with health care, and healthy people are "punished" for their good behavior (losing money on health insurance and gaining nothing in return).

This results in a dangerous situation. Healthy people believe they're in the right, and that sick people are in the wrong. They believe that since it's their money, they then have the right to tell me how to live. And why not? My behavior costs them money. Suddenly there is a huge incentive for them to be all up in my business---how I eat, how I sleep, the risks I take (riding a motorcycle), and all the other choices I make in my life that could affect my health. That's now their business, because it's their dollar on the line.

And you'll have to pardon my tin-foil hat, but I also don't like the idea of the government being all up in my health care either. It means the government will track me from cradle to grave. Unlike most people who just need a yearly physical, I require at least one doctor visit per month. Why? Government regulations that are already in place require it. Why? Because of the War on Drugs (and what a huge waste of taxpayer money that is). And do you really think the government cares how much money it's going to cost you? It doesn't hurt the politicians when your health care insurance costs rise. And what's going to happen when people complain? The government will step in and create laws trying to force people to be healthy. They will restrict freedoms all in the name of controlling health costs. It's already happened in NYC. (NYC Super-Sized Soda Ban: Now in Effect - US News)

1% of the people account for 30% of all health costs. "One patient alone racked up $3.5 million in medical bills over a five year period." (Zakaria: 5% of U.S. patients account for 50% of health care costs - CNN) And what's the easiest way to cut those costs? Let 'em die. Kill off 5% of the population and our health costs drop by half? Do you really think with numbers like that, that there's an incentive to treat these people and keep them alive? Don't kid yourself. Health-cost-related deaths are already a reality in the U.K. (Top doctor's chilling claim: The NHS kills off 130,000 elderly patients every year - Daily Mail)

You'd think with my health care problems and costs that I would love free government health care. Sure, it helps me. In a big way. But at what costs? If it's at the cost of my freedom and privacy, and possibly my life, I'd rather not. But that's where we're headed anyway... And it terrifies me.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

No Happy Thinking Required

I'm bringing this post back from the vaults, it's a post from the very early days of this blog, when I had little exposure. Now that a few of you are listening (*waves*) I'd like to revive this piece.

First, let me introduce you to this internet gem... (edited for work-safe content)

A 23-year old medical student makes lists of all the tasks that he must accomplish each day. He spends hours studying and refuses to go out with his colleagues even when there are no tests on the immediate horizon, preferring to spend his time looking at specimens in the laboratory. He keeps meticulous notes during all his classes and prefers to attend every lecture, not trusting his colleagues to take notes for him. He is doing well in school and has a girlfriend who is also a medical student. Which of the following disorders does this student most likely have?
A. OCD
B. Obsessive-compulsive personality disorder
C. Obsessive-compulsive traits
D. Schizoid personality disorder
E. Paranoid personality disorder
[and written in] F. F*** you, that sounds totally normal. A**hole.

[Full article: http://www.globalnerdy.com/2011/05/04/thats-not-ocd-youre-just-a-slacker/]

Now, let's look at this little gem picked up from a site offering professional services (yes, for money) for coping with chronic pain ...

Catastrophic thinking involves magnifying a negative situation so that it seems more negative than it is, worrying and ruminating about it, and holding pessimistic beliefs about the future. It makes coping with pain more difficult.  Here are some examples:

“My back is killing me.” (magnification)
“I can’t stop worrying about what my headaches might mean.” (worry and rumination)
“No treatments will ever help me.” (pessimism)
“My life is ruined because of my pain.” (magnification)
“I spend most of my time thinking about my pain.” (worry and rumination)
“I’ll never get better.” (pessimism)
Catastrophic thoughts don't help you cope with the pain.

*rolls eyes* Here's my take on the above:

My disease is killing me. I carry an emergency shot and wear a medic alert in case it tries to suddenly, which it has. Ain't a magnification if it's true. And I have to remember how fragile I am so I can act with the appropriate care. That's just responsible.

If I stopped "worrying" about what my headaches might have meant, I'd be dead now, thanks. I'm going to continue to "worry" about my symptoms, because symptoms mean there's something wrong, a**hole! (to steal from the line above...)

No treatment is possible right now. That's not pessimism, that's just a fact. Soon as that changes, I'll do a dance of joy, but until then, I've got to live with reality... not "someday."

My life has been ruined because of my pain. My career? Over. Finances? FUBAR. Credit score? Ha! Having progeny? Not possible. Scars? Lots. Irreparable damage to my body? You bet. That life? Gone. I will never be the same. Again, not a magnification if it's true.

I do spend most of the time thinking about my pain. But that's because I'm usually IN pain. I use denial as much as possible, but I can only do so much of that safely. And there are other responsible reasons to think about it even when I'm not in pain. Worry and rumination aren't inherently bad things!

I'll never get better. This is both true and not true. I'm not going to get better but I can live better. This is a degenerative disease. The only thing I can reasonably hope for is better management of my symptoms. But it's like throwing a wet blanket over a radio: sure it muffles the sound, but the problem is still broadcasting loud and clear. That's realism, not pessimism.

*sigh*

The problem with these well-meaning sites is that there are going to be people, like me, who look at that list and think they're failing somehow because they can't get to these so-called benchmarks of psychological health. But it's not a failing of ours... it's a no-win situation imposed by our disease. 

So let's try rewriting that list a bit more positive-realistically...

My disease is killing me, but it's been losing so far! Ha!

My symptoms may mean something important. I will trust my intuition and work with my health providers to create a constructive plan in addressing them. 

No treatment may ever help me, but I can keep an open mind and give new ideas a chance to work. Even if no treatment ever does help me, I can say that I tried and find other constructive things to do with my life in the meantime.

My old life was ruined by my pain. So I'm making a new life that thrives despite the pain.

I may spend most of my time thinking about my pain, but I make sure that it is within reason. If it is to prepare for, manage, prevent or resolve my pain, that's responsible thinking. If it's to look for new opportunities or advancements in pain treatment, that's okay. But I will make sure I also have information on current events so I can keep up with polite dinner conversation.

I'll never get better, but I don't have to. I can do the best with what I've got left and make this look Awesome.

I lived for years without hope. Hope can be a liability when dealing with a chronic illness. I got tired of hoping this next drug would work only to be disappointed time and time again. My heart would break each and every time the treatment failed. It became too much.

So I said: Screw hope. I don't need it. I don't have to believe in these pills to make them work. It's not like in Peter Pan where I need happy thoughts to be able to fly. All I need is tenacity. All I need to do is not. give. up.*

And the strangest thing happened... I improved my situation anyway. No hope or happy thoughts required.

There's a story from WWII about the allied forces hearing that the Germans were taking no prisoners; they were just slaughtering everyone. The Germans believed this would have a demoralizing effect: taking all hope away. What soldier would want to fight if it was certain they were going to die? Why fight when there's no hope of a tomorrow?

It had the exact reverse effect. When the allies figured there was no way out, the muscled up. The Germans aren't taking survivors? Well, let's take out as many as we can because that's the best we can do. They fought like tigers.

I say, so what if the situation is hopeless? That just makes me standing up to it that much more awesome. Yeah, this disease is big, scary, and frequently totally overpowering. It sucks. It's unfair. It's only gonna get worse before it kills me. So what? No one gets out of this life alive... but I can face it with dignity until then.

"Our arrows will be so numerous they will block out the sun." - Persian emissary
"So much the better...then we shall fight our battle in the shade." - Dienekes, Spartan 
As recorded by Herodotus, Battle of Thermopylae, aka The Last Stand of the 500

P.S. I learned that you *can* give up, if only for a little while. I gave up for a few months here & there... but I would get tired of that, and eventually get back to researching, networking, reading, etc. And when I got back too it, I found all sorts of wonderful new discoveries in my absence. So don't feel bad if you have to give up for a while. You can't stay at the front all the time.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Stop Negative Thoughts

Before I started therapy, my mother used to live in my head. She'd watch everything I did, and provided a constant stream of negative feedback. If I did something wrong, she'd yell at me and let me know how stupid I was for not seeing these consequences ahead of time. If something was wrong, she'd explain to me how it was all my fault, and that this was evidence of how rotten I was. If it wasn't my mother, it was my grandmother ("You dummy!") or my father ("Goddamnit, get your $#!+ together!"). They would scream at me, in my head, all day long, and then made sure to take a thorough inventory of everything I'd screwed up, and tell me all about it as I was trying to fall asleep. It was a brutal mental onslaught. And no matter how much I screamed back at them (in my head), I couldn't get them to shut up.

Finally, I asked my counselor: "How do I get that voice in my head to shut the f**k up?" (I had an awesome relationship with my counselor.)

"I'm so glad you asked," she said smiling. "Most people don't have the courage to admit they have that voice---or voices---in their head. They think it makes them crazy. But that's perfectly normal. Would you like to do some EMDR* on it?"

"Yeah! That's be great."

EMDR, for Eye-Movement Desensitization Reprocessing, is a type of therapy that allows the patient to detach from emotionally-charged memories, and look at them from a less personal point of view. And my counselor had special training for trauma recovery designed in Seattle. And she knew what was coming, because it was something true of all people...

What I discovered was, it wasn't my mother, or my grandmother, or my father yelling at me. It was ME. It was my inner child, scared and insecure, who had put on Masks of Authority to appear like my mother, etc., so that I would pay attention and be careful. It was actually a perverse form of self-love, where I was trying to protect myself, by getting mad at myself. When I was screaming back at myself, all I was doing was yelling at my most vulnerable self.

So, instead of fighting fire with fire, my counselor gave me a new thing to say:

Hi, I understand that you are trying to protect me, but this is not helpful right now. If you could leave me alone for a little, I'd be able to concentrate on this more, and be more careful. So, could you please be quiet for a little while? I appreciate your trying to help, but I'm okay right now. Thank you.

Later that night as I was setting about some chore, the Voice started up with it's barrage of negative commentary. I stopped and recited what my counselor told me. And, like magic, the voice went away! A sense of lightness came over me, and I was able to complete my chore in peace. I even did a really good and thorough job. So I stopped again and told my inner child:

See? Everything worked out! You don't have to yell and scream at me for things to work out. It's okay. I've got this managed.

Since then, that voice is mostly gone. Oh, sure, it pops up every now and again, but I just remind it of what I told it the first time, and it goes away again. I am, for the most part, left at peace. And it's a beautiful thing.

Try it! Share your result here!

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Thankful Thanksgiving

This year has seen so many wonderful things for me, I can't even begin to describe. I've been able to do physical therapy, and all my doctors have been able to see great progress. My disease has a cure, even if we haven't been able to get access to it yet. I've been well enough to help take care of my step-brother, himself, a disabled Vet. I was well enough to cook our entire Thanksgiving feast, something I haven't been able to do in years, and though I was exhausted afterwards, I felt whole, having been able to complete my part in our annual traditions.

That's one thing that is really lost when one becomes disabled---our ability to participate in events that help us feel the flow of the year. When the flow of our lives is interrupted by a disease, what used to be the change in seasons is now a change in doctors and medication. What used to be the delicate passage of time has become the ticking off of days in a prison, never knowing when, or if you'll ever be set free. When life becomes about symptoms and self-care, spending energy on holidays can be impossible. It's easy to become detached, and feel outcast. Because we can't participate, we lose touch with the sense of joy we used to get.

It can be even worse for caretakers. They can feel caught in the middle, wanting to have fun, but feeling guilty for being well, and being able to enjoy these times, while their sick loved one cannot. They may lose their own sense of joy in the holidays because diseases don't take a vacation, so neither can they. They may try to go out and have fun, only to worry the entire time that they're away, so that going out and trying to take a break can be even more stressful than staying at home (at least you know nothing's going wrong, then).

And I was going to write some Pollyanna-ish things about, "If you can't do what you love, do what you can instead!" But honestly, that can make me more depressed than just trying to pass on the holidays altogether. Doing holidays half-assed, that is, not being able to do the things I used to do, but doing something close to it, to try and recapture that old feeling, just ended up being a reminder of why things sucked now. It was honestly much easier to just let go of the holidays altogether. That was something that happened on planet wellness. I didn't live on that planet anymore.

Here on this new planet, we didn't have winter holidays. It just got cold, you got a break from appointments, and you had to be really careful about stocking up on medication because the pharmacies closed on weird days. Presents aren't given, because no one has any money for anything extra anyway. Time is spent, instead, on studying the new changes to Medicare, which require a degree in government-speak before you can understand them.

Winter was the time when other people spent as much time indoors as me.

Now that I'm starting to make visits back to planet wellness, I can say that it's really good to be home again. I'm not going to be "here" for Christmas yet, but my doctors and I are working on it. And yes, I'd rather it be an either/or thing. I don't want it to be the "this is what I can manage" holidays. I either want the holidays the way I want them, or I want to skip them entirely. If I try the middle road, it hurts my heart more. I "miss out" more if I try to do the holidays in a way that's new, because I can't manage tradition health-wise. I miss the holidays less if I don't participate at all.

Of course I want to enjoy the holidays. But if I can't, then I'd rather do without than be teased by visions of what I used to be able to enjoy. So my real suggestion? If you have to have holidays, find a culture that's completely different and start following their holiday traditions. (There are a lot of traditions from Asia that celebrate the seasons in very beautiful ways.) If you are religious, and following the Holy Days is important to you, contact your local church. There are usually volunteers who will bring the ceremonies to you, as an act of service, if it's too difficult for you to make it out.

Now, for caregivers, if you still want to go out and enjoy the holidays, without the baggage of guilt for leaving your sick loved-one behind, my suggestion is: take a "Guest Book" with you when you go out. When you talk to folks, ask them to take a moment to write some well-wishes to the person you had to leave at home. When the party is over, you can bring the Guest Book home for them to read, to let them know that people were thinking of them, and that they were missed. Bringing home a doggy bag with samples of all the goodies from the party is also a good way to help the sick person feel included. As they read, they can sample the treats, enjoying the quiet after-party with just the two of you.

By asking other folks to send their well-wishes, you also strengthen the sick person's ties to the community when they can't go out themselves. You're doing them a service by making sure they're not forgotten at the celebration. This means a lot to us. We feel included, even though we're not able to be there ourselves. It's easy to feel left behind, even if the cause of our not going is no fault of our own, it can feel like exclusion. It can feel like people don't want us around, even if that's far from the truth. A Guest Book is solid evidence against these fears. It shows us that our presence was desired. It shows us our value to the group, and also reminds the group that we still want to be around, even when we can't. (That helps keep future invitations coming.)

I am thankful that I was able to enjoy "Turkey Day" in the way I like. I had missed it. But I'm also thankful of the path I chose when I couldn't enjoy the day like I wanted. It helped me survive the heartache.

I hope you are staying strong through this time, whatever path you choose for yourself.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Guide for Talking to the Chronically Ill -- Call for Submissions

How many times have you heard from your healthy friends and family that they want to show support for you, but "I just don't know what to say..."? Have you ever wished for a guidebook that you could hand to healthy people, so that they would know what to say? Well, I am working on exactly that.* And I would like your help.

I want to teach healthy people how to communicate with people with chronic illness. I want to teach them how to be brave, how to be supportive, and what we want to hear. If there is someone in your life who is having trouble knowing what to say, I'd like you to write me and tell me what you what to hear from them. The more stories submitted, the more options we can present them.

What would you most like to hear from your family?
What would you most like to hear from your friends?
What are some of the best supportive comments you have heard?
What are the worst things you've heard?
If someone wanted to approach you to discuss your condition, how would you like them to ask?
What do you wish people understood about chronic illness in general?
What do you wish people understood about your chronic illness, specifically?
What do you struggle with most, as a result of your chronic illness?
Do you want people around you to help? If so, how do you want other people to offer assistance?
Other thoughts? Comments?

Please say whether you would like credit, or whether you would rather remain anonymous. Feel free to submit previously written works, blog post URLs, etc. (along with permission to reprint).

Send your submissions to: pamc.writer(at)yahoo.com
Include your NAME (or Anonymous), CITY, STATE/COUNTRY
Your DIAGNOSIS(es), HOW LONG (you've been diagnosed), whether you're DISABLED (and DATE)
(Include links to your blog, Twitter handle, etc., if you wish)

Submission Deadline -- December 15th



*I've been gone from here working on this, and other fun surprises coming later this month!

Thursday, October 11, 2012

What Do I Stand For?

I was sitting with my (former) roommate Mike last night, having drinks, and lamenting my current existential crisis. I knew that I had to figure out my direction in life, what it's all for, before I dove back into work again... because once work hits, I won't have time or energy to even ask these questions to myself. It will be work and managing my health to work, and what's this all for again?! I needed to figure out now, during this break in my contract, what I stand for and what I want out of life. I needed some guiding star, otherwise, what's the point? So Mike told me the story of two women stuck by tragedy...

Both had lost their children to violence: one to a gang shooting, and the other to a hate crime. Both women were obviously devastated by their loss. Neither he nor I could imagine the pain that either of these women suffered. And one woman, justifiably so, was left broken and shattered by the experience. She hasn't recovered yet, and no one blames her, because of her experience. But the other woman used her grief to fuel a not profit organization that turned into the NOH8 (No Hate) campaign. She took her pain and turned it into something amazing for others.

It's not difficult for me to answer the question in that song: "What do I stand for?" That's easy. I stand for the rights of the disenfranchised---those struck by chronic invisible illness, who are disabled by their disease, who can't advocate for themselves because they are too busy trying to manage their own illness, and the havoc it brings. I want to shine a light in the darkness to say, "Hang in there... You don't have to walk this alone. I know what you're going through, I've been there myself. Whatever you're going through---no matter how helpless and hopeless you feel---you still have value to me. You're amazing for what you're trying to survive. Give yourself props!"

What I don't know how to do is work towards that goal and work at the same time. I know what I need to do to get my message out there, but that takes a lot of work... work that doesn't pay. So I need to find a way that I can work for what I stand for, and still keep a roof over my head and medication in my system. THAT is what is totally daunting to me. Trying to figure out how to survive in the meantime... oh, that's big.

But I do have something to stand for, and it's about time I got back to it. I'm not like other people, walking around, wondering what their life is about. I know very much what my life is about. I know very much my purpose. Most people aren't that lucky. I found out that my best friend from college died day before yesterday, and it shook me. He was only a few years older than me. We never know how much time we have on this planet. Time for me to stand up.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Reflections on My Trial Work Period

There are three main things I learned with my trial work period: 1) I cannot work 9-5. I cannot be that strict. My body is to fragile and demanding (especially at inconvenient times). 2) The computer industry mostly doesn't care if you can't work 9-5, as long as you can get your work done. My job isn't shift-work. It's project-based work. 9-5 isn't even a realistic business model for my job. 3) I've still got what it takes to do a great job. The love my work. They want me to come back. They're trying to figure out how to bring me back even now, just a few days a week. But I'm torn.

My main concern is that I'm still very fragile. If I work, the rest of the time has to be spent managing symptoms and spoons. Yes, I can do it, but that's all that I'm able to do. I'm 100% work oriented, and that will make you go nuts really, really fast. We have to be able to "take off the uniform" and "leave work at work." But I don't have time for that. I have to sleep enough to have the energy I need to work. That means everything, including taking care of the house, doesn't happen until the weekends. There's not much time left over for rest and relaxation. I'm lucky that my brother is living here and taking care of most of the chores. I'm sure this place would be a wreck otherwise. I'm not sure I can survive full-time work yet.

I could try to work part-time, but then comes the issue of money. Can I afford my medical care, rent, food, medication, and all that, if I'm only working part time? What are my monthly expenditures, and can I afford only part-time work? The last time I did the math, it didn't add up well. Either I work full time and I'm just barely able to make ends meet (not accounting for debt), or I stay on welfare. There's no in-between. I'd lose my benefits and not make enough money to cover the short-fall.

Then there's everyone here, and everyone that I've helped through the years. If I do go back to work, it would mean I wouldn't have time for you or this. And I love doing this. I love shining a light in the darkness and letting people know: "Hey---you're not alone. Hang in there. Make this look awesome!" I don't want to abandon everyone, and I would have to, if I went back to full-time work.

I have much to think about... your thoughts are welcomed.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

WEGO Health Activist Award - Call for Nominations


WEGO is excited to announce the start of the WEGO Health Activist Awards Nominations.

This year, they're extending the nomination period and they've added some exciting new award categories. Now's your chance to recognize someone who has inspired you, helped you, or even changed your life this year - nominate them for a WEGO Health Activist Award!

Click to Nominate a Health Activist

Questions? Get all the details on their WEGO Health Activist Awards FAQ page.

If you want to keep up to date on all the latest WEGO Health Activist Awards news and information, be sure to follow WEGO Health on Twitter and Like them on Facebook!

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Invisible Illness Week - Post # 300!

It's the close of Invisible Illness Week, and this here is my 300th blog post! Can you believe it? Yeah, I was pretty impressed when I noticed it. That's an awful lot of writing on dealing with invisible illness. But if you have an invisible illness, you know that I could easily write another 400 blog posts on what it's like. Because, when you get an invisible illness, it transports you to a different planet, with new rules and new realities, that other people just don't get. I didn't get it today for my brother.

My brother has vaccine illness from the anthrax shot, and on his planet, a storm was brewing. I, of course, couldn't see it. I don't live on that planet. Some of the things about our two planets are similar---I know that when I feel bad, he feels worse and will need more rest. He gets the same weather triggers I do, and we're often knocked out at the same time. But this evening, all was fine in my world, when everything was not right in his. I was able to get him some emergency supplies (chocolate), but he still got hit with an attack that left him shaking and vomiting.

I made him promise to never cut it that close again, because I hated seeing him like that. But in his defense, he said, "I've never had anyone respect my illness before." And that just broke my heart. I know what it's like to not be believed, not be respected, and being told that you're making it all up for attention. It's soul-crushing... because first you've got to convince folks, no, you really don't feel well, and that's all while you really don't feel well, so you're not your best at explaining things anyway! It's a moral kick in the gut when you're already feeling vulnerable and at the mercy of others.

Then, if it's doctors that don't believe you... well, they're the gatekeepers to most all things health! If it's not a skinned knee, a mild headache, or a cold/flu, you're screwed when it comes to fixing your problems yourself at home. And when it comes to getting a correct diagnosis... it can take 7-10 years to get a correct diagnosis when your doctors believe you. It can take agonizingly longer than that if they're antagonistic towards you. No one likes an angry nurse. An angry doctor can poison an entire institution against you.

And, of course, having someone on your side who believes you, and has seen your trouble first hand, can make all the difference in the world. Despite what the OSD says about the Anthrax Vaccine, "U.S. District Judge Emmet G. Sullivan ruled December 22, 2003 that the Department of Defense must stop forcing soldiers and civilian employees to get the anthrax vaccine, saying the vaccine is an experimental drug not licensed by the FDA." But the DOD back-ended their way around that by having the FDA call it safe after the fact, even though Attorney Mark Zaid cited research from an FDA panel in 1985 -- which was also mentioned in the FDA statement Tuesday -- that said that "no meaningful assessment of [the vaccine's] value against inhalation anthrax is possible," Zaid said. Based on the research I was directed to by the CDC, there have only been two human studies, and one of them showed severe side effects compared to controls. Um.... There have been drugs, good drugs (Demerol, for example), pulled off the market for far less! And yet there's this whole web site by the Offices of Strategic Defense that are telling me, oh, no... it's just fine! No one gets sick from this! Really?? I found "one study shows that the incidence and severity of side-effects are significantly higher with the killed vaccine than with the alum-based placebo (overall odds ratio 0.16; 95% confidence interval 2.38-27.17)." [Source: http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/9682332] Just fine, eh? Would you like to sell me a bridge too?

My brother deserves a chance to be well. I'm gonna work my pants off to make that happen.