
The Blackhole of ME/CFS Medical Care
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When they tell me my bloodwork looks bad I don’t feel worse. When they tell me there’s an acute problem in my bloodwork I don’t feel worse either. When they tell me that problem is better now I don’t feel any different. When they tell me my bloodwork has greatly improved since a year ago, I reflect on feeling better a year ago. When I try to get a new medication there is nothing but waiting and roadblocks from doctors not responding, insurance companies denying, pharmacies floundering; Every part of the system designed to move slow and screw up and stop me from getting treated. It’s a blackhole that sucks my energy (and my mother’s energy who battles all of them for me) and gives back very little in the way of actual care.
Lately I often find it difficult to ration the energy needed to email my doctors about the next treatment. The next treatment that won’t make me feel better just like the last 2 years of new treatments have not made me feel better. To write to my doctors and wait and write them again and wait and then wait for an insurance battle waged by my mother to be won, and then wait for the treatment to do something. Or not do anything. Or make me worse. Lately it’s the latter two. I have a question for my doctors right now, but I am here writing this instead because at least it feels like I am doing something. Something, even something small, will come out of this. A new treatment that will help me feels like a fallacy.
I often wonder where I would be today if I never sought treatment for ME/CFS.
There have been a few pivotal treatments that have really helped me out of extremely precarious states of health. But I was only ever in those states because of medications that made me worse and bleeding energy into an endless, years long, desperate attempt to get better that never amounted to anything but a big life sucking drain.
Maybe I would have gotten worse on my own and needed those pivotal treatments. Or maybe if I just focussed on not crashing and living my life I would be out there living it. At least more than I am right now.
I am not urging anyone to ignore their illness and not seek medical help, I drudgingly pull myself over the rocks of this process and continue trying new things because i have to, because I need to feel better than I do right now. I am simply reflecting on my own journey through ME/CFS and how the medical system has affected me and what that means about our medical system, our culture and our society.
Whether it be greed, incompetence or a profound lack of empathy and compassion - or a whopping dose of all 3 - this world is failing us. It is failing us as human beings who deserve to be treated with the same dignity and respect everyone expects in this life. Not sucked for blood by the vampires of a failed system.
PS. This piece is not a condemnation of ME/CFS specialist doctors or an attack on them. Most of them are working tirelessly to help patients but stuck in a $%& up system.
Love,
Whitney
When they tell me my bloodwork looks bad I don’t feel worse. When they tell me there’s an acute problem in my bloodwork I don’t feel worse either. When they tell me that problem is better now I don’t feel any different. When they tell me my bloodwork has greatly improved since a year ago, I reflect on feeling better a year ago. When I try to get a new medication there is nothing but waiting and roadblocks from doctors not responding, insurance companies denying, pharmacies floundering; Every part of the system designed to move slow and screw up and stop me from getting treated. It’s a blackhole that sucks my energy (and my mother’s energy who battles all of them for me) and gives back very little in the way of actual care.
Lately I often find it difficult to ration the energy needed to email my doctors about the next treatment. The next treatment that won’t make me feel better just like the last 2 years of new treatments have not made me feel better. To write to my doctors and wait and write them again and wait and then wait for an insurance battle waged by my mother to be won, and then wait for the treatment to do something. Or not do anything. Or make me worse. Lately it’s the latter two. I have a question for my doctors right now, but I am here writing this instead because at least it feels like I am doing something. Something, even something small, will come out of this. A new treatment that will help me feels like a fallacy.
I often wonder where I would be today if I never sought treatment for ME/CFS.
There have been a few pivotal treatments that have really helped me out of extremely precarious states of health. But I was only ever in those states because of medications that made me worse and bleeding energy into an endless, years long, desperate attempt to get better that never amounted to anything but a big life sucking drain.
Maybe I would have gotten worse on my own and needed those pivotal treatments. Or maybe if I just focussed on not crashing and living my life I would be out there living it. At least more than I am right now.
I am not urging anyone to ignore their illness and not seek medical help, I drudgingly pull myself over the rocks of this process and continue trying new things because i have to, because I need to feel better than I do right now. I am simply reflecting on my own journey through ME/CFS and how the medical system has affected me and what that means about our medical system, our culture and our society.
Whether it be greed, incompetence or a profound lack of empathy and compassion - or a whopping dose of all 3 - this world is failing us. It is failing us as human beings who deserve to be treated with the same dignity and respect everyone expects in this life. Not sucked for blood by the vampires of a failed system.
PS. This piece is not a condemnation of ME/CFS specialist doctors or an attack on them. Most of them are working tirelessly to help patients but stuck in a $%& up system.
Love,
Whitney
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