#healthcare system

LIVE

after this fire has burned everything to the ground

i wonder who will stand among the ashes

and tell us,

“we did all we could.

this is a [damn] shame.”

if we wake up from this nightmare–

(because remember

some of us will not be waking up

and for some of us

it was your choices

that will bury us)

–i wonder who will look back and say,

“we got through this

together.”

we could point fingers

many already have; 

we could say, “it’s your fault, their fault, his fault”

but let us not forget

our world was already crumbling before it was set aflame

the fire was beyond anyone’s control

(things would have crumbled regardless,

but it’s true–

there is a difference between crumbling

and being razed to the ground)

and while we were all burning

let us not forget

that some were warming their hands by the fire;

and some, the even more detestable few,

they lined their wallets with our cries for help.

(at a time when there was not enough to go around;

isn’t it just human nature

that the wealthy few

continued to walk over our hollowed spines

to enter the mansions housing their riches?)

after this fire has burned everything there is to burn

i wonder if i will just be ash

blown away on the wind

or if i will become the fire

that lives to consume everything in rage

to feed the emptiness scraped out of me

by every loss

by every struggle

by every injustice

by every time i was told

in no uncertain terms

that something

someone

everything

was more important

than how deeply the burning had set in my flesh

(”don’t you know?

you’re one of the lucky ones.

at least you havea job,

and besides?

didn’t you 

sign up for this?”)

when this fire has burned everything away

will i feel clean, instead?

left behind by all those around me with too much self-respect

to let the fire conquer them–

will it re-teach my soul the lightness that was stolen?

after this fire

will everything just go back to being exactly the same?

(just one slight breeze from breaking)

after this fire

who will be next in line

to tell me i’m unimportant,

disposable,

and

oh-

so-

flammable?

Anyone else in health care being gaslit by the government, society, and their institution into feeling survivor’s guilt because even if things are crappy for you, they’re crappier for somebody else?

Really feeling for my primary care/family medicine, critical care, emergency/urgent/acute care, and mental health colleagues at the moment. This pandemic has been going on way too long, and no one seems to care about the fact that even when things were reopening, you were all still being worked into the ground (and through the crust of the earth into its molten core) by all the ripple effects of this pandemic uncovering the systemic inequities and BS that was just lurking in the shadows before 2019… All the stuff that health care workers, in general, managed to barely keep at bay from their sense of altruism and dedication (now obligation?) to their patients. If I’ve learned anything from COVID-19, it is that everyone will do their best to take advantage of you, and short of doing your job well, you actually don’t owe them anything.

You really do gotta take care of you first, otherwise this system will beat you down to nothing before you even realize it. “Resilience” is great and all, but it’s really just the system shifting all responsibility for surviving its BS onto its victims.

This system has been sick for a very, very long time. It’s gonna need a lot more than a bandaid and some yoga to rehabilitate it.

horce-divorce:

iamtherabbitinwonderland:

Alex Haahaard (they/them) on twitter:

“at some point we should probably have a conversation about how the normalization and glorification of physical exhaustion during medical training contributes to producing deeply ableist doctors.

Like a) it makes the field completely inaccessible to many disabled people whose knowledge is deeply needed there and b) it supports a deeply f*cked up worldview in which pain and fatigue are things you can and should "just push through”

queer-adhd:

addamatic:

queer-adhd:

As someone who nearly became a doctor before changing careers, and knows a lot of them. Uh. Half the time doctors don’t know anything about a specific disorder/illness/syndrome. Literally nothing. Maybe they heard the name once, but if it’s not relatively common then zero. Zilch.

And also half the time their knowledge is Disgustingly out of date. They have no obligation to keep up to date on the latest studies. There is often pushback against doctors who do try to introduce new practices to the field.

I have worked as an editor for a bunch of BMJ articles. I have very literally been on the cutting edge of medical research.

So when I say this, please bear in mind that it has taken a lot of thought, that it is not coming from a reactive place. I love medicine. I still do. I wanted to be a doctor, but it wasn’t possible at that point in my life for me to do that and still be healthy. I want medicine to be something helpful and useful to those who need it.

All of that said: I would not trust a doctor more than I would trust a patient. Less, most likely.

I am INCREDIBLY fortunate to have a doctor who when I say “hey this thing would cause all of my symptoms” says “ok I have literally never heard of it, let me see what we need to do to get you tested.” And THEN she does research in between my appointments. I have never had this level or quality of medical care in my entire life. Ever. And it’s not because she’s some wonder woman who knows every disease on the planet. It’s because she’s some wonder woman who actually believes her patients should have input into their care and will order blood tests for bonkers things that are rare but do fit the symptoms.

I would take her over a hot shot doctor every minute of my life. For any amount of money. Because she encourages my curiosity and brings her own curiosity. And never ever belittles me for reading extensively about what might be wrong with me. She does say “no that is definitely not what you have” when it’s warranted, and I appreciate that because I can trust it. I know that if it were a possibility she would pursue it. It’s AMAZING to be able to trust a doctor when they tell you that you don’t have something. With the amount of medical PTSD I have, honestly. For me to have even a little trust when she says that something isn’t my issue is so healing.

I wish this for all people, but very especially disabled people.

Honestly it’s heartbreaking how absolutely inconceivable this level of care is. I’m so glad that your doctor is this good, and I wish that we could rely more on the chance of someone being that good when we ask for treatment.

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