A Rant of Epic Proportions
November 24, 2007
This doc is smart, in humanform terms. Has it mapped out so that I am required to show up in his office about 4 times per year, under the guise of a "follow-up". This is a ritual I find not only annoying, but potentially life-altering - in the sense that, when we go actively looking for something, we often find it. Translated: it has come to be my belief that a lot of medical technology touting "early diagnosis" may not be as "good" as we think it is. Sure, we're finding more incidents of cancer, but we are told, "Yebbut, the good news is that we caught it early! See, now you can have your bits amputated and still go on living, and isn't that grand that we caught it so early?"
I'm not so sure. The body is a phenomenal healing machine. And it is a fact that our bodies may or may not have "cancer cells" (just to use that as an example) running through our bloodstream at any given time. I know of an individual, for example, who was diagnosed with cancer, but turned out not to have it (based on his INSISTENCE of a second opinion just days before he was scheduled to have his testicles removed).
The doctors were astounded! "Hurray!" they shouted. "You've gone into remission!" The amazing part was that they STILL wanted to proceed with the surgery - "As a precautionary measure," they insisted - but luckily my friend had received a wake-up call and told them to cut off their own nuts, take 2 aspirin, and call him in the morning.
And yet...
The question must be asked... did he ever REALLY have the dis-ease in the first place? Or did the machines only register a few passing cells, which sent the medical profession into its pre-programmed response of: "When in doubt, chop it out!" The medical profession is often so quick to take drastic action that it fails to take into account that minor detail of the Hippocratic Oath. "At least, do no harm."
I tell ya, folks. I am so UTTERLY disgusted with the medical profession that I would push a button and wipe it off the map if it were within my power to do so - because it is every bit as much a trap of the CR as any long-term inescapable desk job, and it is designed in such a way to create and perpetuate the very illnesses it professes to cure. It does not treat the cause, but only masks or amputates the symptoms.
Example... Those who have known me for awhile are already aware of my "diagnosis" regarding diabetes. First I have it. Then I don't. Tested my blood regularly for over a year, numers remained in normal range without the use of any pills or foreign insulin... so I stopped testing. So sue me - test strips are not only expensive, but the whole process only seems to engender a mindset of being at the mercy of a machine - rather like William Shatner & his female companion being stuck in The Twilight Zone forever, perpetually asking one of those hokey fortune telling machines, "Is it okay for us to leave now?"
So help me, that's how I felt. What will the numbers reveal this morning? What will the test results show next time I go to the doctor? Sure, we can all argue about a warrior's mindset, a stalker's intent, and a dreamer's will... but the bottom line, folks, is that while we are still in human form, these organic booby traps which we call our bodies eventually begin to deteriorate... and instead of actually facilitating cures, the medical profession seems far more concerned with perpetuating "long-term treatment".
Long-term treatment. Hmmm. A pattern is emerging here.
Sorta reminds me of the government's unwritten motto: "We are here to help." Yeah - tell it to New Orleans. Tell it to the Native Americans. Tell it to the millions of Americans who have no health insurance. But that's a different rant for a different day.
The whole thing about diabetes is that it's like playing with a greased pig. Just when you see a way to defeat aspect A of the dis-ease, you encounter the annoying and glaring problem of aspect B.
Here's how it works. As a result of this most recent "follow-up" into the mousetrap of the doc's lair, it was revealed that my blood sugar levels have spiked to an all-time high. Now, here's the really irritating aspect of this. I feel great, and ALL of my other numbers are in normal range. Blood pressure, heart, lungs, blah blah blah... all that of a 30-year old. Even the doc was pleasantly surprised... but INSISTED on looking for something deeper, something to rain on that parade of otherwise good health.
Look for it, you find it.
So, he prescribes a diabetic drug by the name of Metformin. Same drug he prescribed 2 years ago, which I never took... and still do not intend to take. *shrug* No, it's not just that I'm a cranky old hippie who insists on doing everything "naturally". Hardly. My hesitation to take the drug comes from a keen sense of awareness & education on the potential side effects of the drug, combined with a corresponding education on the effects & progression of the dis-ease itself.
Here's how it works: if you take the drug, you are risking potential death from this or that side-effect, some of which are relatively common. Subsequently, by taking the drug, you are essentially sending the message to the pancreas which says, "It's okay, Bud. You don't have to work anymore. We've replaced you with a chemical compound. Your job is forfeit, pick up your pink slip on the way out, and don't let the door hit you in the ass." Translated: tell any organ that it no longer has to function, and it essentially dies. *shrug* (Am I supposta see it any other way? Am I supposta tout the medical profession and say, "Well, isn't it grand that you can destroy my pancreas in the name of keeping me alive!")
Grrr.
But the downside appears to be this... and here is where the rabbit hole starts to spiral. Take the pill & destroy the pancreas. Don't take the pill and the kidneys and eyes are potentially affected to the point of destruction. Take the pill & risk a potentially fatal condition called lactic acidosis (actually a process of rigor mortis which occurs while one is still alive - sounds like fun to me!) Don't take the pill and play Russian roulette with a variety of other potential risks from the disease itself.
This has been an ongoing research project since my initial diagnosis, and frankly I have come to the conclusion that the medical profession is not only barking up the wrong tree, but chopping the tree down in the process just to make it easier to reach. Translated: is the "cure" any better than the dis-ease? I'm not so sure.
Having talked to several diabetics whose condition is actually more "advanced" than mine (if one places any value in the numbers thrown at us from the medical profession), I'm finding out from them that even "long-term care" doesn't seem to do much (if anything) to really halt the progress of the dis-ease itself. One eats like a rabbit, pokes oneself with needles several times a day in some cases... and the numbers continue to rise. What follows are amputations of limbs, dementia to one degree or another, incidents of sepsis, kidneys fall out the asshole and one is forever on dialysis, diabetic coma... and death.
And these are the people getting treatment!
Sorry, but I cannot have faith in a profession or a system of treatment which really does not address the core of the dis-ease, but has seemingly settled for a series of protocols which clearly do little more than extend a patient's life with no hope of recovery, and a promise of an agonizing death. Sure... lemme bow down before THAT fine bunch of "healers".
Something is wrong with the system. Something is very, very wrong.
Why am I telling you?
All I'm sure of is that for as long as we bend over in silence before the gods of the medical profession or the government, or whatever other power group is telling us, "This is the way it is," we insure our subservience to the machine, and guarnatee the status quo its right to go right on going on.
I happen to like Dylan Thomas's view on it:
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And yet...
How many of us are really willing to rage against it? Some of the best warriors I know seem to hold this bizarre notion that there is nothing we can do about death, so why not just make it a friend. Now, I'm all for sitting with death as my advisor, and frankly what I've learned from that practice is that Death is actually the guardian and spokesperson for man, much in the same manner the mythical Lucifer turned to God one fine morning and basically said, "Who are you to make these creatures mortal and then give them awareness of their mortality?"
Needless to say, that didn't go over particularly well, nor have my ragings against death gone over particularly well even among advanced warriors. Seems to me that there's too much Vulcan-esque "acceptance" and "detachment" going on, when maybe what is required is a good, healthy dose of rage against the machine!
By accepting the status quo, we guarantee that it continues to thrive.
So I started raging against the machine a few days ago. This little blood meter tells me, "Be alarmed! Be afraid! Run run run for the sanctuary of the pills!"
And yet... my own inborn intuition tells me that even if the numbers are elevated, there is some reason aside from this "diagnosis" to account for it. Having done a fair amount of research, I have discovered quite a few things which most doctors (and seemingly all pharmacists) are unaware of.
Many drugs (both prescription & over the counter) actually elevate blood sugar levels. One major one is a thyroid med, which I have been taking for several years. But, of course, when I mention that to the doc or the pharmacist, they look at me as if I'm daft, until I am forced to drag the doc into his office to show him the data on the computer. But still, he protests (true to his existing paradigm), "But the elevation is minor..."
To which I can only shake my head and consider tearing out my hair, because for anyone capable of forward thinking, it becomes quickly obvious that even a minor elevation over a period of years is going to be a cumulatively more significant elevation than perhaps anyone wants to consider. And never mind the fact that other malfunctions in the organic form can quickly elevate blood sugar levels - including and especially, disturbances of the liver.
So... when I follow that thread, I realize I've been prescribed a medication that directly affects the liver and (get this) "may result in increased significantly higher glucose levels"... blah blah blah.
It's a vicious circle! And the sad part is that I'm finding that the medical profession is turning out to be much like everything else. Used to be, when I was a kid, I had a little tape recorder that I could hit one button to record, another button to play, and there was even a fast forward and reverse. That was it. Nothing fancy. Now I have this tiny little hand-held digital turd that is virtually unusable until one reads a 37 page manual, pays homage to the Gods, and makes a proper sacrifice of blood (usually resulting from banging one's head against the fireplace in abject frustration). The computer requires 4 passwords before it will agree to be taken out of the box, but in order to get those passwords, one must go to a website containing the secret code... which, of course, may only be accessed if one has the 4 required passwords... and so it goes.
Nothing is simple any longer. No, that isn't whining, though I'm sure there are some who will be quick to say, "But, Della, that's just the way things are!"
Sure, true statement. But there are those who accept the status quo and those who challenge it at its deepest levels, and those who have known me for awhile already known which category I inhabit. So sue me (again) for failure to accept what is clearly an unacceptable situation.
Do I have a solution? If I did, I probably wouldn't be sitting here banging away at the computer. But what I do have is intent, will and a fucking heavy dose of stubborn determination. I woke yesterday morning, to the crisp wind of a fine November morning. Dog at my side. Warm in my bed. Distant scent of chimney smoke. All was right with the world...
Until I remembered that pesky little blood meter and the elevated numbers from the days before. Kinda like waking up and suddenly remembering a dentist's appointment. Puts a pall on the whole day.
So I got up, walked into my office, grabbed the car keys and that little turd of a tape recorder, and drove out into the deepest reaches of Joshua Tree National Park, where I sat in the cold silence of meditation for over 3 hours, alternatiing between working on healing, and downloading some information from Orlando through the process of gnosis channeling.
I'm going to post his response directly below this entry, but will also start a new thread with the information gleaned through silent-knowing, as I feel it may have relevance to a lot of folks on a lot of different levels.
In the meantime, I admit I have lost all patience for the status quo, and will be the first to tell you that the first step toward healing resides in the determination to DO it, rather than in any bland and peaceful acceptance of any diagnosis. It's just a word. It's only one more label.
So last night, I opened the door to my office, and literally flung that obnoxious little blood meter as far into the desert as I could...
And, of course, the truly ironic thing was that it hit a tree branch, and richocheted back at me. At that, I had to laugh. So I smashed it against the fireplace, then hurled it down on the desk with a force that would have shattered steel.
This morning, it sat there blinking up at me. Takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin'. The Energizer Bunny would be proud.
I dare say there is a bit of a diabolical message in that.
...
And yet...
It ain't over till the fat lady sings. And - fair warning - I am just now winding up for the first aria!
All material in this blog (essays, rants, images, poetry, et al) is copyright © by Della Van Hise, and may not be reprinted elsewhere without the prior written permission of the author. Quantum ShamanTM is a trademark of QuantumShaman.ComTM and reserves all rights to this material. This includes all print and electronic media, including other blogs, other websites, and so on. Thanks for respecting copyrights.
This doc is smart, in humanform terms. Has it mapped out so that I am required to show up in his office about 4 times per year, under the guise of a "follow-up". This is a ritual I find not only annoying, but potentially life-altering - in the sense that, when we go actively looking for something, we often find it. Translated: it has come to be my belief that a lot of medical technology touting "early diagnosis" may not be as "good" as we think it is. Sure, we're finding more incidents of cancer, but we are told, "Yebbut, the good news is that we caught it early! See, now you can have your bits amputated and still go on living, and isn't that grand that we caught it so early?"
I'm not so sure. The body is a phenomenal healing machine. And it is a fact that our bodies may or may not have "cancer cells" (just to use that as an example) running through our bloodstream at any given time. I know of an individual, for example, who was diagnosed with cancer, but turned out not to have it (based on his INSISTENCE of a second opinion just days before he was scheduled to have his testicles removed).
The doctors were astounded! "Hurray!" they shouted. "You've gone into remission!" The amazing part was that they STILL wanted to proceed with the surgery - "As a precautionary measure," they insisted - but luckily my friend had received a wake-up call and told them to cut off their own nuts, take 2 aspirin, and call him in the morning.
And yet...
The question must be asked... did he ever REALLY have the dis-ease in the first place? Or did the machines only register a few passing cells, which sent the medical profession into its pre-programmed response of: "When in doubt, chop it out!" The medical profession is often so quick to take drastic action that it fails to take into account that minor detail of the Hippocratic Oath. "At least, do no harm."
I tell ya, folks. I am so UTTERLY disgusted with the medical profession that I would push a button and wipe it off the map if it were within my power to do so - because it is every bit as much a trap of the CR as any long-term inescapable desk job, and it is designed in such a way to create and perpetuate the very illnesses it professes to cure. It does not treat the cause, but only masks or amputates the symptoms.
Example... Those who have known me for awhile are already aware of my "diagnosis" regarding diabetes. First I have it. Then I don't. Tested my blood regularly for over a year, numers remained in normal range without the use of any pills or foreign insulin... so I stopped testing. So sue me - test strips are not only expensive, but the whole process only seems to engender a mindset of being at the mercy of a machine - rather like William Shatner & his female companion being stuck in The Twilight Zone forever, perpetually asking one of those hokey fortune telling machines, "Is it okay for us to leave now?"
So help me, that's how I felt. What will the numbers reveal this morning? What will the test results show next time I go to the doctor? Sure, we can all argue about a warrior's mindset, a stalker's intent, and a dreamer's will... but the bottom line, folks, is that while we are still in human form, these organic booby traps which we call our bodies eventually begin to deteriorate... and instead of actually facilitating cures, the medical profession seems far more concerned with perpetuating "long-term treatment".
Long-term treatment. Hmmm. A pattern is emerging here.
Sorta reminds me of the government's unwritten motto: "We are here to help." Yeah - tell it to New Orleans. Tell it to the Native Americans. Tell it to the millions of Americans who have no health insurance. But that's a different rant for a different day.
The whole thing about diabetes is that it's like playing with a greased pig. Just when you see a way to defeat aspect A of the dis-ease, you encounter the annoying and glaring problem of aspect B.
Here's how it works. As a result of this most recent "follow-up" into the mousetrap of the doc's lair, it was revealed that my blood sugar levels have spiked to an all-time high. Now, here's the really irritating aspect of this. I feel great, and ALL of my other numbers are in normal range. Blood pressure, heart, lungs, blah blah blah... all that of a 30-year old. Even the doc was pleasantly surprised... but INSISTED on looking for something deeper, something to rain on that parade of otherwise good health.
Look for it, you find it.
So, he prescribes a diabetic drug by the name of Metformin. Same drug he prescribed 2 years ago, which I never took... and still do not intend to take. *shrug* No, it's not just that I'm a cranky old hippie who insists on doing everything "naturally". Hardly. My hesitation to take the drug comes from a keen sense of awareness & education on the potential side effects of the drug, combined with a corresponding education on the effects & progression of the dis-ease itself.
Here's how it works: if you take the drug, you are risking potential death from this or that side-effect, some of which are relatively common. Subsequently, by taking the drug, you are essentially sending the message to the pancreas which says, "It's okay, Bud. You don't have to work anymore. We've replaced you with a chemical compound. Your job is forfeit, pick up your pink slip on the way out, and don't let the door hit you in the ass." Translated: tell any organ that it no longer has to function, and it essentially dies. *shrug* (Am I supposta see it any other way? Am I supposta tout the medical profession and say, "Well, isn't it grand that you can destroy my pancreas in the name of keeping me alive!")
Grrr.
But the downside appears to be this... and here is where the rabbit hole starts to spiral. Take the pill & destroy the pancreas. Don't take the pill and the kidneys and eyes are potentially affected to the point of destruction. Take the pill & risk a potentially fatal condition called lactic acidosis (actually a process of rigor mortis which occurs while one is still alive - sounds like fun to me!) Don't take the pill and play Russian roulette with a variety of other potential risks from the disease itself.
This has been an ongoing research project since my initial diagnosis, and frankly I have come to the conclusion that the medical profession is not only barking up the wrong tree, but chopping the tree down in the process just to make it easier to reach. Translated: is the "cure" any better than the dis-ease? I'm not so sure.
Having talked to several diabetics whose condition is actually more "advanced" than mine (if one places any value in the numbers thrown at us from the medical profession), I'm finding out from them that even "long-term care" doesn't seem to do much (if anything) to really halt the progress of the dis-ease itself. One eats like a rabbit, pokes oneself with needles several times a day in some cases... and the numbers continue to rise. What follows are amputations of limbs, dementia to one degree or another, incidents of sepsis, kidneys fall out the asshole and one is forever on dialysis, diabetic coma... and death.
And these are the people getting treatment!
Sorry, but I cannot have faith in a profession or a system of treatment which really does not address the core of the dis-ease, but has seemingly settled for a series of protocols which clearly do little more than extend a patient's life with no hope of recovery, and a promise of an agonizing death. Sure... lemme bow down before THAT fine bunch of "healers".
Something is wrong with the system. Something is very, very wrong.
Why am I telling you?
All I'm sure of is that for as long as we bend over in silence before the gods of the medical profession or the government, or whatever other power group is telling us, "This is the way it is," we insure our subservience to the machine, and guarnatee the status quo its right to go right on going on.
I happen to like Dylan Thomas's view on it:
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And yet...
How many of us are really willing to rage against it? Some of the best warriors I know seem to hold this bizarre notion that there is nothing we can do about death, so why not just make it a friend. Now, I'm all for sitting with death as my advisor, and frankly what I've learned from that practice is that Death is actually the guardian and spokesperson for man, much in the same manner the mythical Lucifer turned to God one fine morning and basically said, "Who are you to make these creatures mortal and then give them awareness of their mortality?"
Needless to say, that didn't go over particularly well, nor have my ragings against death gone over particularly well even among advanced warriors. Seems to me that there's too much Vulcan-esque "acceptance" and "detachment" going on, when maybe what is required is a good, healthy dose of rage against the machine!
By accepting the status quo, we guarantee that it continues to thrive.
So I started raging against the machine a few days ago. This little blood meter tells me, "Be alarmed! Be afraid! Run run run for the sanctuary of the pills!"
And yet... my own inborn intuition tells me that even if the numbers are elevated, there is some reason aside from this "diagnosis" to account for it. Having done a fair amount of research, I have discovered quite a few things which most doctors (and seemingly all pharmacists) are unaware of.
Many drugs (both prescription & over the counter) actually elevate blood sugar levels. One major one is a thyroid med, which I have been taking for several years. But, of course, when I mention that to the doc or the pharmacist, they look at me as if I'm daft, until I am forced to drag the doc into his office to show him the data on the computer. But still, he protests (true to his existing paradigm), "But the elevation is minor..."
To which I can only shake my head and consider tearing out my hair, because for anyone capable of forward thinking, it becomes quickly obvious that even a minor elevation over a period of years is going to be a cumulatively more significant elevation than perhaps anyone wants to consider. And never mind the fact that other malfunctions in the organic form can quickly elevate blood sugar levels - including and especially, disturbances of the liver.
So... when I follow that thread, I realize I've been prescribed a medication that directly affects the liver and (get this) "may result in increased significantly higher glucose levels"... blah blah blah.
It's a vicious circle! And the sad part is that I'm finding that the medical profession is turning out to be much like everything else. Used to be, when I was a kid, I had a little tape recorder that I could hit one button to record, another button to play, and there was even a fast forward and reverse. That was it. Nothing fancy. Now I have this tiny little hand-held digital turd that is virtually unusable until one reads a 37 page manual, pays homage to the Gods, and makes a proper sacrifice of blood (usually resulting from banging one's head against the fireplace in abject frustration). The computer requires 4 passwords before it will agree to be taken out of the box, but in order to get those passwords, one must go to a website containing the secret code... which, of course, may only be accessed if one has the 4 required passwords... and so it goes.
Nothing is simple any longer. No, that isn't whining, though I'm sure there are some who will be quick to say, "But, Della, that's just the way things are!"
Sure, true statement. But there are those who accept the status quo and those who challenge it at its deepest levels, and those who have known me for awhile already known which category I inhabit. So sue me (again) for failure to accept what is clearly an unacceptable situation.
Do I have a solution? If I did, I probably wouldn't be sitting here banging away at the computer. But what I do have is intent, will and a fucking heavy dose of stubborn determination. I woke yesterday morning, to the crisp wind of a fine November morning. Dog at my side. Warm in my bed. Distant scent of chimney smoke. All was right with the world...
Until I remembered that pesky little blood meter and the elevated numbers from the days before. Kinda like waking up and suddenly remembering a dentist's appointment. Puts a pall on the whole day.
So I got up, walked into my office, grabbed the car keys and that little turd of a tape recorder, and drove out into the deepest reaches of Joshua Tree National Park, where I sat in the cold silence of meditation for over 3 hours, alternatiing between working on healing, and downloading some information from Orlando through the process of gnosis channeling.
I'm going to post his response directly below this entry, but will also start a new thread with the information gleaned through silent-knowing, as I feel it may have relevance to a lot of folks on a lot of different levels.
In the meantime, I admit I have lost all patience for the status quo, and will be the first to tell you that the first step toward healing resides in the determination to DO it, rather than in any bland and peaceful acceptance of any diagnosis. It's just a word. It's only one more label.
So last night, I opened the door to my office, and literally flung that obnoxious little blood meter as far into the desert as I could...
And, of course, the truly ironic thing was that it hit a tree branch, and richocheted back at me. At that, I had to laugh. So I smashed it against the fireplace, then hurled it down on the desk with a force that would have shattered steel.
This morning, it sat there blinking up at me. Takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin'. The Energizer Bunny would be proud.
I dare say there is a bit of a diabolical message in that.
...
And yet...
It ain't over till the fat lady sings. And - fair warning - I am just now winding up for the first aria!
All material in this blog (essays, rants, images, poetry, et al) is copyright © by Della Van Hise, and may not be reprinted elsewhere without the prior written permission of the author. Quantum ShamanTM is a trademark of QuantumShaman.ComTM and reserves all rights to this material. This includes all print and electronic media, including other blogs, other websites, and so on. Thanks for respecting copyrights.