Friday, December 28, 2007

[The Wisdom of a Distracted Mind] When Indigo Asks, All Must Answer...

I believe that's the rule. Indigo pretty much rocks, after all. And, she asked a question which certainly deserves an answer:
By the way did you ever get it straightened out so you could get the prescription you needed? (Hugs) Indy
Unfortunately, Indy, I am still dealing with people who sit at desks all day rather than go to medical school to get a degree to actually be qualified to make a decision that is in the best interest of the patient and not in the best interests of the pharmaceutical company and its shareholders or the insurance providers and their shareholders.

It's very hard too. Several times I day I see the Enbrel commercials on TV, and, as a result, I am perpetually reminded that what I need to make my life livable is just out of reach. So many times I have been given these prescriptions from hopeful and excited physicians for these supposed "medical miracles" which would greatly improve my quality of living by making me mostly pain free only to find out from the mouths of the pharmacists that I am denied access to them for reasons known only to a select few sitting behind a desk somewhere.

To say the range of emotions through all of this runs at a near manic sort of frequency would be an understatement. It is a form of manic-depression I suppose; however, it doesn't come as a result of some sort of chemical imbalance. What I deal with comes as a result of waking up in excruciating pain after a usually sleepless night never knowing what exactly is going to hurt one day to the next, only to turn on the television in the morning to see the answer to my problems right there. It's devastating to realize that every O.K. for me to take this medicine exists except one --that of the insurance provider. And, that person is someone who has, most likely, never once taken any sort of medical course so as to be qualified to put themselves in a position to declare what I do or do not need medically.

Every day is frustration. Every day is pain. And, I know that the more I move and undertake any day-to-day chore, I am doing permanent, irreparable damage to my body which will most likely consign me to a life of chronic, sometimes debilitating pain. Untreated arthritis is funny that way, and when the inevitable skin flares of psoriasis explode back to their previous severe levels where 80% of my body is covered and nothing is pretty much all I can do, I hope some options exist, but I doubt it since this madness explodes unbelievably fast, and it will literally suck the will to live straight out of me.

And yet, the commercials still blaze across the TV screen before me. It's torture.

Anyway, now is the weekend, and I imagine very little will get done until Monday. Then, I will be back on the phone dialing numbers at a mad, panicked rate in hopes of trying to resolve this before things get any worse. And, as anyone with this disease knows, it will get worse.

A while back, someone sent me an email wondering how, in spite of all this, I managed to stay upbeat and hang on to some shred of a sense of humor. And, I don't quite know the answer to that, really. I think there are times where I simply step outside myself so as not to be distracted by the chaos that is me. I think doing that makes it easier to focus on things, but there's also a huge hazard to that as well. After all, it's never a good idea to ignore one's problems for very long. However, since my problems are currently being ignored by others, I suppose I haven't any choice but to ignore them as well.

Then again, several times a day, here and there or now and then, I do pay attention to those aches and itches just to sort of stay current with what's going on should anyone ask. I mean, people do tend to ask some pretty damn strange questions now and then. Sometimes, when they get a little too nosy, I usually respond that the spots on my arms or hands are leprosy, and I was kicked out of my nice, warm leper colony in Hawaii where I drank Kona coffee, smoked a lot of weed and cheated at Parcheesi, and if they think they're having a bad day, I tell them to try being shunned by a colony of lepers.

And yes. It's fun being a smart ass. But, I do try to stay positive. And, though I don't know how I manage to do it sometimes, I truly am damn glad that I can. Sometimes, Iread about people in much worse situations than I am, and though it's horribly selfish, in a way it does help me to feel better about my own predicament. And, I admire those people. As much of a struggle as it is for me to get out of bed most mornings, I know for them, it would be so much easier to just give up. Yet somehow, they carry on, and, so long as they do, somewhere along the way, I realized that the least I can do is try to bring something positive to their lives in whatever way I can. Even if they have no idea who I am, or never read a single word I've scribbled, maybe, somehow, there's a chance that someone will find something here silly enough to share with those around them. Then, if I'm lucky, it will wind its way along some convoluted path to someone close to them who will share whatever madness tumbled out of my head. And the thought of putting a smile on someone's face or a thought in their head is really all I need to make my days a little better.

Yes. I know it's an odd way of going about things, but it's what works for me.

Anyway, I wish I had a nice, silly way of wrapping this all up in a tidy, little bundle, but I really don't. About all I've got left in my tank today is that I have learned that when making spaghetti and meatballs, it's a really good idea to have more noodles than meatballs in the bowl.

Trust me on this...

Well, I hope I've answered the questions. I hope you enjoy the answers. And, finally, I really do hope you all have a wild and wonderful weekend wherever you may find yourselves.


Posted By Dan to The Wisdom of a Distracted Mind at 12/28/2007 08:50:00 PM

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