I think we as patients would often be better off with no medical intervention. Because not all "intervention" counts as healthcare. And yesterday, while I saw a doctor and received an exam and had some tests run, I wasn't cared for. And it felt like shit.Read More
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My months at the dog daycare were some of the most powerful in my recovery. When I started work, I struggled with the basics – keeping a routine, maintaining enough energy to get to work, and learning new tasks. The job was fun and challenging; it was manual labor, and it gave me confidence in my strength – and, importantly, in my ability to integrate my strength into my responsibilities. Previously, I’d kept the two separate: my responsibilities lived in my laptop, which I used from the security of the sofa; meanwhile, my strength lived at the yoga studio, but I didn’t push its limits outside those walls. This job, though, combined the two, and it taught me how to harness my energy and [literally] play well with others again.Read More
Today, as I ran from my physical therapist's clinic to my yoga studio, I was reminded of something that I can't afford to moderate: my courage. At one point, as I've shared, going to my PT's clinic ("my PT") for tune-ups was a challenge. I wanted to be "better," and I thought that meant "having no need for any medical intervention." As I've grown these past two years, becoming an athlete, a yogi, a 40-pounds-heavier, living, breathing woman, I've changed my mind. My PT is vital to my enjoyment of life, because she allows me to continue to be courageous. She'll be there if I fall (as she's demonstrated oh-so-many times before).Read More
I walked out the door of the clinic that day proud and nervous. Was I really better? She assured me that I was. My doctor and husband and family and girlfriends assured me that I was. So, I figured I’d take this “healthy” thing for a spin.
If health is a state of existing in perfect comfort and contentment, it was short lived.Read More
When I stopped seeing my PT regularly, I tried to avoid coming back in for visits. I wanted to feel like I was actually healthy, and not relying so heavily on her help. This sounds silly now, but at the time, I hadn’t gone more than a couple of weeks without PT for years. But after seeing my health through this goofy construct for a few months, I began to understand that a much better goal is a state of “supported independence.”Read More
Others’ judgment and treatment of me transformed my own beliefs about the legitimacy of my illness. I unintentionally invalidated my own body’s experience of pain, and I’d allowed those who chastised me for “taking advantage” to usurp my right to be treated decently outside the confines of my own home. In letting people like this dictate how I would care for myself while enduring unspeakable pain, I somehow lost ownership of my experience.Read More
I opened the driver door and was confronted with a wave of judgment and anger. The man yelled at me: “can’t you see we are still getting into our car? You’re not even disabled! You shouldn’t even be parking there!” I flushed with embarrassment and became shaky. And for the first time in my life, I yelled at someone in public. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You know nothing about me!”Read More
My illness and weekly out-of-state travel for care had worn me down. I looked like a ghost, spent most of my time in bed, missed classes frequently, and was probably starting or withdrawing from some new horrible medication. We realized that if we married, I would lose my insurance -- my only access to care. And to be frank, I was a wreck. We held hands, I cried, and we decided to indefinitely postpone our wedding. Notifying our family and friends was heart-wrenching.Read More
I recently wrote a blog entry for my law firm, Jackson LLP, about insurance discrimination against women in pain or suffering from chronic conditions. It's so relevant to Inspire Santé's mission that we're also sharing it here.Read More
More times than I can count, I’ve been asked: “How long did it take for you to start feeling better?” I met Sandy, my PT, when I was wheelchair-bound and in constant, horrific pain. So, I’m sharing this journal entry, written 15 days after meeting Sandy. And to answer the question: It took less than 15 days.Read More