How so? They cater to those who beat themselves up. For someone like me who has been proactive with my health for decades, I continue to fall under their radar. How so? Being in the upright position, to them, means I must be okay. Ha! My list of ailments continues to grow because of their negligence. I honestly believe tests need to be recalibrated for underweight people like me. Numbers on results need to be taken into consideration. What is healthy for an average weight person or man should not be used to gauge my health. Until they put it to the test, the medical system will remain backwards and many like me will fall thru the cracks. So DARN backwards.
I for one am done being treated like a number. Treating all as a whole may put money in their pocket and/or a feather in their cap, but it does nothing for our health. Need more convincing? In needing to see a dietician, I was denied. Why? Because I am not overweight. So, my muscles continue to atrophy. A few of my conditions are difficult to prove, but hello… the signs and symptoms are there. I have begun telling doctor’s that if it wasn’t for me, I’d be dead. 100% HONEST TRUTH.
With parents gone of cancer and a brother who survived it nearly forty years ago, thanks to marijuana, I remain proactive. However, this muscle loss is making it difficult to just stand up straight. Posture bras aren’t even helping, besides, they are too damn hot for my autonomic neuropathy. Yes, this is a post that is allowing me to vent, whew!
Still not convinced? Been to the emergency room lately? Oh. My. God! I could not believe my eyes when I went to Loma Linda for my POTS. Mostly filled with a room full of people who haven’t an ounce of self respect. Eating themselves into oblivion, if not, into a wheelchair. Twenty-one hours later I white knuckled it home feeling like I was gonna die for months on end, once I made it home safely. Here I am eating an impeccable diet, detoxing regularly, drinking my water, taking my expensive vitamins, walking, exercising, keeping busy, cooking from scratch, resting, and my muscles still won’t budge. Many with just one of my many ailments end up with a feeding tube in a wheelchair. I have begun to think, that is what they are waiting for before I am taken serious.
That or I need to lose the use of my arms before they do something. Quite ASStonishing! As if the above bullshit isn’t enough, I am being asked to choose what I want treated. I realize this is an insurance protocol, but really!? I have hEDS, my connective tissue runs throughout my body. From head to toe, and you’re asking me to choose?
Until someone decides to see me with the opportunity to learn a LOT, I continue to feel like both, the Tin Man and the Strawman. Stiff and loose, and on the verge of another break or dislocation. Why do I say “opportunity?” Because, as a detox mentor, I coached many on diet, detox and disease. I learned so much by not knowing. All it took was a little detective work, and VOILA. I was helping people recover from much and get pregnant.
“We learn while we teach. “ ~Roman philosopher, Seneca~
With all the crime going on, I may need to start padding my clothing, so I don’t look like a walking target. I kid you not. Soon I will be legally permitted to carry a weapon. That request per God, which I know opens up a whole new can of worms for some.
So be it. FREEDOM is on the way. Yay!!
May each and everyone reading this be empowered to stand up for their God given health and rights. Much has been and continues to be revealed. Sadly, not enough for some. Call it destiny.
Cheers to a better future!