The Disease

Today a patient sits in a waiting room outside a sage and noted physician’s office anticipating what will happen in the scheduled office consultation. The last big series of tests have been run and this is the moment when you must come to Jesus. A large wall clock's second hand just seems to crawl. The patient, and in this scenario you can either assume it is a compassionate and caring America or yourself, is in full flop sweat. For narrative purposes let’s just assume the patient is you.

Nerves are frayed and this morning’s coffee is just not sitting well. Your mind begins to silently work through the start of the universal last-ditch prayer, “Dear God, I know I haven’t always been faithful but I can change…,” and then stops when the thought arises that how dire things are is yet unknown. The dark wood door to the doctor’s office swings open. A smooth hand extending out from a starched white lab coat beckons you in and directs you to sit.

A manilla file jacket lies open atop the leather pad on the doctor’s side of the cherry desk. You and the doctor take your seats, both in leather chairs. The doctor’s chair swivels. You glance around at the rows of diplomas, certificates and awards and hope they mean you have made the right choice of specialist.

After a couple of quick questions and comments about traffic and the weather the doctor says, “Well let’s get to it.” You sag in your seat as the doc picks up a sheet of paper and scans the top few lines.

With a solid and measured voice, the doctor begins, “There is no way to sugarcoat this. Your case is quite serious. You have a potentially deadly disease. A short while ago you had a moment where this could have been nipped in the bud but for whatever reason that didn’t happen. I don’t know if you thought it was too costly, it wasn’t, or you thought you couldn’t trust the treatment or the provider, you could. I see the provider was a woman of color. I hope that didn’t deter you from addressing this.

But here we are. You have let this disease spread unchecked. Maybe you didn’t get the support you needed from those around you to give you the confidence to make the right choice. However, it is too late at this point to run through the what ifs and what should I have done questions. We have to come up with a treatment plan.

The disease you are facing has no guaranteed cure, but it can be beaten. It will take a great deal of work and commitment on your part to get through this. However, I assure you that survival is possible if you take an active role in your treatment. Make no mistake your odds are at best 50/50 and maybe slightly worse. This is because even with our tests there is no telling if the disease has spread to places that our scans can’t see. Sometimes the disease masks itself incredibly well only to surge up and out when a weakened body gives it the silent go ahead to show its ugliness. A hateful thing really, this disease shows no mercy, no compassion, no empathy and no understanding to anyone but itself. It is a very selfish and myopic disease.

Surgery is out of the question because the results show that the disease has spread to places we hardly thought possible. The heart and the brain are involved. And that is surprising because otherwise you are in general good health. I mean you have been working hard and making a decent wage. I see from the notes that you are a shop steward. These recent years have been a good time for your union folks. You have reconnected with friends from all over the world that you thought you had lost. They turned on you a few years back but maybe that was your fault. There are only a few social notes in this medical history so I am not going to try and guess as to what happened there in the past.

If I remember correctly, you had a bout of this before about eight years ago. But it entered into remission. What was it like? Good thing you have coverage for pre-existing conditions. I see you have actively improved the condition of almost every part of your body over the last four years. Your vision up until the last few days has been good. That is the thing about this disease, it can sit dormant for a time festering quietly only to rage back.

There is no magic pill I can give you, not one that will vanquish this sickness. Most of the work in fighting the disease you will have to do on your own.  What is critical is developing a support network. Maybe you can find others who have been afflicted by this disease and recovered. Anecdotally I understand it can be difficult to find these people. They tend to clam up. They have already been stigmatized by non-sufferers due to the nasty treatment they gave their friends and community members while in the throes of the disease. As soon as they've recovered, they don't want to be stigmatized, or tortured, by those who continue to suffer from their disease.

I am sure you can find plenty of people who have watched loved ones suffer. They can offer you tips and guidance on recovery strategies. More importantly they can point out tactics that don’t work. Silence is never an appropriate choice. Neither is isolation. In addition, become familiar with the underlying causes of the disease. Poverty, race, sex, ignorance, and fear are all factors that impact the disease. It is crucial to inform yourself about the truth about what is going on. Memes and Tik Tok won’t lead you to better health. Note however, you don’t get this disease from being around gay people or immigrants. You get it from ignorance.

If you don't work diligently to blunt the disease and it really takes hold the effects are devastating. Your mind becomes clouded. You lash out at people who love you and who have supported you forever. You belittle them. You fear anything and anyone you don't understand. People of different races, sexual orientations, and religions scare you. In a weird twist women become a problem. Your mind creates false memories and deluded visions of a past that only existed in stories and on old TV shows where women were subservient housewives. 

One critical thing to help you recover is communication. Another is activity. You need to talk with your support circle about what is wrong and ask them to help you address the paranoia and fear that will come. You also have to talk to people who may not be infected yet but show minor signs of the disease. You have to convince them to change their behaviors before things worsen. You have to step out in public and show people how recovery is done. You have to point out the positive things that made your last four years better than those years with your previous bout of the disease.

I will not give you a prescription. Instead, I will subscribe you to Heather Cox Richardson's newsletter, Letters from an American and also to Mother Jones. Next I will give you a copy of the Constitution. Read it and read it again. Finally, I will provide you with the addresses of the nearest cannabis dispensary and liquor store near your home. You may need an occasional intoxicant to take your mind off things. Talk to my secretary on the way out. I want to see you again in January. The first month of next year will be brutal for sufferers like you.