And, by "sick," The Blog doesn't mean diarrhea, vomiting, headache or a nose full of snot. He doesn't mean an itchy rash, a sore throat, aching joints and muscles, or just feeling "all around shitty."
Although, to be fair, all of those things DO suck... some.
No, by "sick," I mean, "major organs that no longer work the way that they are supposed to."
I mean, "filling your body with over a dozen controlled poisons (aka: prescription meds) every day, several times a day. Many of which have side effects that can be found referred to in the first, actual, paragraph in this post. Just because suffering those side effects is preferable to the alternative, which is sudden (or slow) death.
*A Brief Aside...*
One of The Blog's most favorite scenes from one of his most favorite TV shows, "House, MD." is the one where Dr. House is doing clinic duty and encounters a mall Santa suffering from diverticulitis. House prescribes "two cigarettes a day." House explains that nicotine has been shown to prevent the symptoms of diverticulitis.
This is true! The Blog once read that in The Reader's Digest.
Santa: But, aren't cigarettes dangerous?
House: Pretty much everything we prescribe is.
By "sick" I mean, "against every conceivable obstacle, getting all conditions in order, (lowering blood pressure, losing enough weight, and passing a psych evaluation,) to qualify to be put on an organ transplant list, so that, maybe, in a decade or so, the patient might receive a new (well, actually, used, but still working) organ.
By "sick" I mean spending four days a week, three and a half hours at a time, hooked to a machine that sucks our your blood and then puts it back, like some kind of robot vampire.
Which is, seriously, not as sexy or romantic
as some pop culture shit would have you believe!
By "sick" I mean "...going through your day, just fine. Then finding yourself in a hospital Emergency Room, covered in more blood than Carrie at her prom."
Your own blood.
Not the pig's blood that that asshole
John Travolta dumped on you.
That is what I mean by "sick."
Do you know what else sucks, almost as much?
Being the person whose loved one is that sick.
Never knowing when the one you love is going to spend her/his night screaming, crying and moaning in pain, as you stand by, helpless to do anything to make it better.
Catching the wrath of the miserable, frightened, loved one who "hates you," because you sent her to the hospital, rather than allowing her to sanguinate. (Um... that means, bleed to death.)
Warfarin, also known as Coumadin, is an anti-coagulant used to prevent blood clotting.
According to Wikipedia, "It was initially introduced in 1948 as a pesticide against rats and mice and is still used for this purpose..."
Some months ago, The PC went to the local CVS Pharmacy to pick up Mrs. Blog's Warfarin prescription. He also placed four bottles of Diet Mt. Dew (one of the few soft drinks that a kidney patient is allowed to drink, weirdly,) and a bottle of moderately priced Scotch on the counter.
Pharmacist: I can ring up the Warfarin and the Mt. Dew. But, I am not allowed to ring up the Scotch.
The PC: Seriously? I can pay you, here, for the medical grade rat poison and four bottles of shit that metabolizes into formaldehyde (Google "Aspartame + formaldehyde." I'm not kidding.)
*(Note to self... One of these days, write a post about the history of "NutraSweet, the FDA and the Reagan administration. That will be a good one.)*
The PC continues: But, I have to take the Scotch to another register?
Pharmacist: I know. Right?
*End Aside #2*
So. In light of last night's events, The Blog has some advice for the desperately ill...
I get it. At best, you are frustrated. More likely, you are terrified. You will spend the next few hours being subjected to inconvenience and pain.
Given the alternative, you have to accept this.
You can antagonize the EMTs, piss off the nurses and insult the doctors.
In spite of that, they still have only one goal. And that goal is to save your life. The same goes for your loved one, your caregiver, your spouse.
There is a portion of the brain in every one of those people that is thinking, "Fuck you! Bleed out and die. Just don't do it on our watch."
But, the EMTs, nurses and doctors don't say that. Because it is their job and responsibility not to.
Your loved one, caregiver, spouse doesn't say it because he/she doesn't want to live without you.
So, suck it up. Because everyone around you is doing their part. You need to do your part, too.
*A Note to the Healthy People...*
If you have not done it already, become an organ donor. Check the box on your driver's license or register with your local hospital. Save a life.
The "WAR ON CHRISTMAS" post is still coming. Give The Blog another day or two. The subject is based on stupidity, addressing stupid people. It's all just stupid. This post feels more important, at the moment. So it took priority.
And, to my Jewish friends, Happy Chanukah!