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Of Heroes, Trust, Discord, Arrogance, and Karma – Part I
This year I can tell I’m finally getting beyond the trauma. It’s a feeling of freedom to some extent, but sort of a shame to another. And you know me – I always end up analyzing these things (or, perhaps over-analyzing them) – enough so that I’m going to share some of that analysis with you. The trauma I refer to was the cancer (lymphoma) misdiagnosis in 2004 that propelled me to change careers to patient empowerment, and eventually advocacy. By trauma, I mean that I was told I that in a few short months I would be dead, and that I butted heads with the very doctors who were supposed to help me manage my diagnosis, one a most-arrogant oncologist who, in God-like fashion, told me I was foolish to waste time getting a second opinion because “no one will know any more about your cancer than I do.” Right. On September 20, 2004 – 12 years ago last week – after three months of doing battle with the healthcare system, I learned from a hematopathologist at the NIH that I did not have lymphoma after all. There was no evidence of any cancer in my body. None. Zip. All these years later I have never had any treatment. Clearly, no, I wasn’t dead in a few months. They were wrong. Further, it cost me every penny of my savings to prove I did not have cancer, despite the fact that I had health insurance. (It was crappy, high-deductible health insurance, but I was single and self-employed, and it was all I could afford.) Since then, every year on September 20th I have mentally celebrated what has become a rebirth of sorts. I have simply taken stock of all the positive life changes that resulted. I’ve tried to use that impetus to drive me past the PTSD that remained for so many years. It seems to work; I haven’t had a meltdown in more than two years, and life just keeps getting better and better. I know I’m getting beyond the trauma because when Tuesday, the 20th rolled around…