Rocky Path

Last time I was in the hospital, the admitting doctor asked me about a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) order.

“Have you had the opportunity to discuss it with a loved one?” she asked.

“Of course. No heroic measures!” I emphasized. “I’ve spent the last ten years living with chronic disease; I have no aspiration to live an even more reduced life.”

I read on Twitter that a man with Myalgic Encephalomyelitis has applied for MAiD (Medical assistance in dying). He says it’s the most attention he’s ever received from doctors. The irony is not lost on me. Doctors don’t know about the disease. If you google it, there is a slew of information and most of it incorrect. I had a cardiologist do that right in front of me. She picked the first site that popped up and read it to me. It included treatment protocols that have proven to worsen the disease. Really? I thought, this was the best you can do?

As the poem suggests, my mind (and spirit) is bursting with projects I want to complete, but my body is uncooperative.

How do I achieve balance upon this rocky path?

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

16 thoughts on “Rocky Path

  1. A rocky path indeed. It would kinda have been funny to google the doctor’s name in front of her and then read what came up about her. Think it would be any more correct in her eyes?

    But to your bigger point, I hope you find some real help navigating the path. Sending good wishes, VJ!

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  2. Oh my goodness. I’m with Liz. Receiving that level of “care”…if you can call it that…would contribute mightily to feeling rocky and unsure, out of balance. I’m so sorry you had to endure that VJ and I’m happy to hear you won’t be returning to see that physician.

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