Anger Happens

It has been suggested  apologize for my blog post of Friday, my distressed blast at doctors, nurses, hospitals, et. al. I can understand that suggestion. I blasted the very people who have, up until the last couple of hospital visits, been providing me with excellent health care. I howled about the very process which makes it possible for me to keep going in spite of a terrible illness. I get it; I need to be thankful for these people, not blaming them for things over which they have little or no control.

Apologies aside, the truth is I am tired of all of this, tired of seeing doctors, tired of dealing with hospital staff, even tired of the superiour care I get from Home Care. I am very upset about coming out of hospital only to find myself worse than when I went in. Mostly I am just tired of having ALS and all the other stuff that goes with it.

Once again, the truth is that there is very little the health care system can do for the proximate issue, that of having a progressively nasty terminal illness. This is a tough way to die, and even a tougher way to live. The doctor did not give me ALS. He had nothing to do with the possibility of C-Difficile, other than having the bad luck to be the messenger. Perhaps the nurse I had issue with has problems of her own she is dealing with; we all come as a single unit, sometimes its hard to leave your personal stuff behind. I know it is for me, for sure.

So, rather than apologize for saying how I was feeling, let me once again say what I have said in the past. I recieve world class health care, with little or no cost to me. I am treated well, mostly, by the system, rarely waiting for care, and only this recent experience had anything negative to it. Prior to this, I have always been impressed with what seems like the best health care you could get anywhere on the planet.

I was feeling really angry and upset on Friday. While it was triggered by events in the hospital, that underlying anger has more to do with me and ALS than anything else. When you are trapped with this anger, this distress about having ALS, there is no place to put it. Sometimes it comes out, whether you like it or not. It's the same as for the hospital staff. When I am distressed, there is nothing they can do about it. I come as a single unit; sometimes it's hard to leave my personal stuff behind. Somtimes I get angry. It doesn't make it right. It just happens.