I’ve had what you might call a moment of clarity. And it’s really annoying, because I’d still love to hang this guy from the highest yardarm. BUT…
One of my worst memories of my initial diagnosis was when all the side effects of the psych drugs started to manifest. The drugs didn’t seem to do much except put me in a coma that I was supposed to be very gracious about. When I told good old doc that I now needed adult diapers that I was suddenly far too large to wear, he told me “I don’t think they make a pill for that”. No. Seriously.
But the one thing he told me that I never forgot, and certainly never forgave, was this. I was trying to make him understand why I kept flushing my meds, about how horrible the side effects were. And he told me that if I was alive in a year to bitch about it, I’d be considered a success.
It’s taken me nine years to get perspective on that comment. And don’t get me wrong, I still think it was probably the most inappropriate thing to say possible. But the comment itself, now considered… hum.
Back then I had no reason to live. I didn’t care from one day to the next. It didn’t matter. Nothing, in fact, mattered. And I couldn’t imagine a time when anything would.
But now? Hum. If one were to look at that comment now, one might suggest the doctor was pro choice. And it took an entirely different story to give me this idea. I was watching about the mother and the 13 year old son who were going to Mexico rather than endire chemo. Kid will die without it. Kid will live with it. It’s that simple. There’s a court order for him to go through it if he’s ever found. And here’s me saying – yes. It’s the right thing to do. Even if he hates it (and who doesn’t hate chemo?) Give him the option to kill himself later, if he so chooses. But right now do the chemo and get him to the point where it’s his choice to live or die. Don’t let the cancer make the decision for him.
And I thought… fuck. I’m a total hypocrite.
Isn’t that what yahoo doc did? Again, he didn’t have to say that to me. Because words are weapons to the mentally ill, and that hurt. And also lets be clear – he didn’t treat my illness. I actually have something he doesn’t believe exists. Aren’t menfolk just wonderful that way? But… by keeping the symptoms at bay 9 years, he (and my support network – never forget them)allowed me to get to the point where I could make an informed decision. To be, or not to be. Let the choice be MINE, not the Beast’s.
No. He shouldn’t have said it. But I understand. I hope.
And now it’s kind of cool. The world is cheerfully ripping itself to shreads. Certainly this is a facinating time for anyone to live through. I really feel like we’re all witnessing the fall of Rome all over again. Tonight I saw a commercial for “Buy local produce! It’s better for the environment than importing it!” And I think the economy will enforce this happily green statement.
I mean, let’s face it. This warped concept of imports, exports and “Most favored nation” is falling about our ears. But I remember eating exotic fruits from far away places and imagining what it must be like to pick them off the trees there. I LIKE exotic fruits from far away places! It’s a good memory. Future generations may not have such memories – I’m hoping we’ll be both wise and lucky enough to revert back to a self sustaining village type concept by the time it’s all over.
One way or the other, it’s a really facinating time to be alive. As the movie says, the only crime these days is to be bored. Doc and my support network gave me a 9 year reprieve so that I could awake in a land that is anything but boring. And I’m incredibly lucky. Insanity is an absolute killer, and it certainly should have killed me. So it seems Doc was pro choice, and along with my family fought to put the choices back in my hand.
He was still a bastard for saying that. But I understand.