Saturday, January 21, 2012

The Always Interesting Adventures of Patient X.


I hold no doctorates or muse over credentials of grandeur, but I do stake claim to the ownership of my body and the state of it's well-being.

However, in our current medical landscape even the slightest presentation of an educated response to a health crisis is seen as inappropriate or even dangerous, a complete affront to the expertise of the lofty and the few.

This "ego anger" as I often call it seems to stem less from a professional stance of patient protection and more from a fear of the "sheep" breaking from the herd and defying the status quo.

I've been called a know-it-all, an over-concerned citizen and even a hypochondriac and out of all these insults and undignified attempts at character assassination not an ounce of progress has been made nor a shining of compassion shown, the least of which is owed to me, as with any other individual. I don't remember receiving the memo that humanhood is now a privilege.

In the end the only result I have been left with is a continued distrust for those in the medical field. The outcome of living in a constant space of unknowing, of whether I am on "the list", the pariah with a hidden agenda or still considered "worth saving". The what-ifs and whys, the where-oh-where on the listening board will I be this time around, somewhere caught between patients 1 and 9 or tossed to the side once again?

Being oft-ignored and the constant bearer of a "suspicious" diagnosis can leave dear old Patient X feeling tired after a hard day's work of being vilified and denied. So battle on, repelling the bullets of injustice and remain steadfast in myself.

I refuse to fall between the cracks and will fight to prevent anyone else from having to brave that chasm as well.

May we continue to fill the empty hollow of ignorance and lies with the brevity of truth and always hold the line.

And to our critics, remember you could just as easily be here. Don't wait until it's someone you love on the other side of the inquisitor's table to have a change of heart. Make a difference now!

Happiness, Hope and Healing to you all.

- Kenneth

Monday, January 9, 2012

I'm Not Always Alright.



The past two days have been a struggle. I have been completely emotionally unhinged- the weight of watching myself disappear amid a list of symptoms and pill bottles finally got to me and I could no longer skip along merrily wearing my "sunshine face".

Its a freak-show that I can be so strong and yet so fragile at the same time. I am so sick and tired of being sick and tired, of waiting rooms and uncomfortable explanations, of being defined by a disease and not as a person.

Where do I belong in this mess of paperwork and protocols? Where has the me in me gone and when will I be back?

They say not to dwell on what you cannot do, instead to rejoice in what you are still capable of. Sounds great on paper, but feels a lot more like bullshit while your bearing witness to yourself fragmenting into a stranger. The experts claim that supposedly we all go through the "5 Steps of Grieving" during traumatic situations, but I no longer believe this is true. I think it always is a mixture of the entire spectrum.

On any given day, especially when reminded of my losses I often will feel deep grief and attempt to cope, sometimes resulting in an empowering moment of strength and on other occasions, total sadness. It's the function of living, the human experience, uncensored and unedited. It's not the kind of crap you see in the movies, it's raw humanity, at it's most brilliant and devastating.