Holy crap, we're closing in on the final day of the first quarter of 2016 (March 31st)! Where has the time gone, and where the heck have I been? Well, let me wish you all a very belated - not to mention: procrastinated - "Happy New Year". I hope that the transition into a new year, and the subsequent first few months, has been a smooth/peaceful journey. As for me: in typical professional patient fashion (at least for my specific circumstance), I spent my final moments of 2015 passed out from anesthetics - a distinct contrast from the drunken shenanigans of my friends. In summation: my body still hates me, and decided that surgery would be how I would ring in the new year.
Oh well... alcohol is not my forte, and it was nice to not have to be the designated driver. It was a peaceful - although a touch chaotic - close to an interesting year. In tandem with finally receiving an advanced degree, I celebrated the one year anniversary of my emancipation from supplemental oxygen/subsequent diagnosis that had eluded the physicians and me for eight years. While my lungs are functioning the best they have in what seems a lifetime, my heart is the dastardly fellow behind the health-suck. Although polite society (by "polite", I mean nosy motherf******) may find my particular celebrations odd: while I understand, I simply don't give a damn. Life as a "lab rat" within a research university/hospital for as long as I have, has been the greatest teacher and catalyst of personal growth. Not only have a gained a level of confidence in myself - not to mention the nerve to be honest/outspoken - I have a new respect for my elders.
Don't get me wrong: I by no means am glorifying the aging process in late adulthood. Getting old sucks - I am certainly not going to contest that. However, the greatest perk I see (mind you: an assumption made from numerous observations): is what seems to be a societal acceptance of their elders' outspokenness/lack of filter. I get it, and appreciate it for what it is. So long as there is breath in my body, I am going to fight for my life - to exist and let everyone know/remind others that I am present... I am here.
My experiences as a patient of a stupid amount of physicians (whom are all awesome/lessening in number - thank God), have rendered an abnormal life. While the journey was awful - and my diagnosis is scary/could potentially kill me in the next fifteen or so years: I am incredibly joyful/thankful. There is a face to my health-suck. Although there isn't much information over my condition, I'll take that over nothing. Doctors no longer look at me as a potential psych patient/with blinders - hell, I no longer entertain the idea of "maybe it's in my head". For those of you who have never experienced this, I pray you never do. To live with the possibility of never knowing what is wrong with you, not to mention questioning one's own sanity, on a daily basis: is absolute torture. To know that you are dying from something that eludes the brightest of minds - to be an unwilling participant of an entity that is day-by-day stealing your autonomy/independence, is so horrible. It is being acutely aware of the death of self. It is a loss – no one tells you so, but it is. The cost is enormous.
Subconsciously, I knew what I was getting into… the tests, the poking, the prodding, the questions, the paperwork, and the endless subjection to the unknown: the fear. I understood the cost of becoming a “professional” patient. After all, one isn’t referred to specialists of a research facility when conditions/symptoms can be diagnosed and dealt with at the local level. To be a patient at any research facility is to be subjected to the major leagues of medicine: the cusp of the very fabric of discovery… and what a mind-fuck it all is.
Anyway... enough of the "gross" part of this post. Despite the numerous medical escapades/surgeries, 2015 was an awesome year. Any time I am reminded of my shared humanity with others, is a humbling experience that is cause for celebration. The greatest part by far, has been learning how to be a doctor from someone who is what I wish the medical profession had more of. She is an amazing person and healer. As merely a fetus in the journey to become a physician, I hope that will never forget my experiences as a professional patient, because it has provided me a unique perspective into just how limited medicine/science is and how as a populous: we naively place the profession onto a pedestal. Our expectations are unrealistic - as patients, physicians, and everyone else.
It is my mission to help bridge the gap wedged within the doctor-patient relationship. This is the ultimate goal of this blog - other than as a cathartic means to unload. I already have future posts in the works, so please, be on the lookout. However, please be patient (ha! I made a funny): these things take time - of which, is a luxury for me considering my studies/personal life.
Much love and well wishes for a continued year of explorations, discoveries, and happiness!
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