Monday, March 21, 2011

Disbelief

1.        

I've been thinking a lot lately about the disbelief surrounding CFS, and the effect it has on us patients.  This is changing!  But for the past 25 years, CFS patients have been ignored, patronized, and psychologized (this is a word) by the medical establishment and the media. We've all probably had the experience of being told our condition is psychological, not somatic, in origin.  Even if we have good doctors and a supportive family, there's still an atmosphere of skepticism surrounding CFS, where the proof is on the patient that we’re sick and not crazy.  The insidious thing, at least for me, is that it's hard not to absorb this disbelief and start disbelieving ourselves. 

I love medicinal science.  It can do amazing things, and I'm holding out hope that it will do amazing things for CFS.  But it's also badly organized, immorally profit-driven, inaccessible, and arrogant.  Because scientists don’t understand this illness yet, they assume it must not be real.  Even if some doctors believe us, most can’t help, and so we go on to alternative medicine.

I also love alternative medicine.  Its practical advice and holistic approach have helped me immensely. Nutrition, Qi, herbs, and considering the effect of mental health on physical health are nothing but super-great.  But there is an undercurrent of hubris in the alternative medical field as well; there is an idea that just because mind and body are intertwined, the mind must have power over the body.  We must be able to heal ourselves every time.  

This kind of thinking conflates physical health and spiritual growth, and tends to see the illness as a metaphor.  Sore throat?  Maybe you’re not expressing yourself.  Cataracts?  You must lack vision.  And Chronic Fatigue Syndrome!?  Who knows what that’s all about, but you must be doing something wrong.
If there is a dichotomy in Western medicine between body and mind, there’s also a dichotomy in alternative medicine between the mind/body connection and the fact that physical illnesses need physical treatments.  No one would treat MS or AIDS like that, but because the etiology of CFS is unknown, the crackpot theories fill the void.  Once again, the patient is told that her illness is not real, this time under the patronizing guise of spirituality.  Once again, the victim is blamed.

Blaming the victim is a pretty universal concept, sadly.  We don’t want to live in a chaotic world where bad things happen to people who don’t deserve it.  That would be scary!  It makes us feel better to think that a person with a debilitating disease that no one understands is somehow responsible for it.  This phenomenon has only been made easier by dubbing CFS the “Yuppie Flu.”  Actually, just like most other diseases, poor people and people of color are at higher risk.[i]

The truth is that illness is a force of nature.  We do what we can to prevent and treat it, but ultimately it’s out of our hands.  The very first thing we need to do is accept it.  This is the key to sanity and the first step toward healing.  But acceptance is hard when you are supposedly the cause of your own suffering.  I know I ran myself ragged for years trying to prove that I didn’t want to be sick.  I think a lot of us do that.  We waste our energy and money, we rack our brains wondering if there are deep dark subconscious forces undermining our lives.  We push ourselves harder, and make ourselves sicker, or we lose trust in ourselves completely.  

Acceptance is radical.  It means we embrace our lives, every aspect of them, even the horrible and scary parts.  It's so hard to say "Yes, this is my chronically ill life, and I'll take it by the balls anyway, and make the most of it." But what choice do we have?  The hippie doctors say that illness is a spiritual defect.  That's not true.  But illness can be transformative, if we make it so.  It can put our life in sharper focus, force us to abandon the bullshit we don't have the energy for, awaken our compassion, make us treasure our family and friendships.  I won't go so far as to say illness is a gift; there are a lot of other ways to become a better person.  When I haven't left the house in a month, "personal growth" seems like a particularly bitter consolation prize.  But still, we don't have a choice.  Let's learn from this experience, let's embrace it as much as we can.  


And that is almost impossible to do when you are worrying that any positivity about being sick, seeing any possible gains from it, might be part of an insidious subconscious attachment.  "Do I want to be sick because I want to grow?"  No!  Don't listen!  Something horrible and beyond our control is happening to our bodies, and staying postive about is an incredibly brave choice.  

So let's change the dialogue.  Like I said, I really see it happening.  I hope people getting sick now are spared the years of confusion and misunderstanding that so many of us went through.  It’s sad that we get excited about simply being believed about the legitimacy of our illness, but after 25 years, it’s about time.  It’s the first step towards a cure. 



[i] Dinos, Sokratis; Khoshaba, Bernadette; Ashby, Deborah; White, Peter D.; Nazroo, James; Wessely, Simon; Bhui, Kamaldeep S. (2009). "A systematic review of chronic fatigue, its syndromes and ethnicity: prevalence, severity, co-morbidity and coping.". International journal of epidemiology 38 (6): 1554–70. doi:10.1093/ije/dyp147. PMID 19349479.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Mixed Feelings

A little CFIDS street cred:  I've only left the house once this month.  It's been about two and a half months since I had to leave acupuncture school and come back to live with my parents.  I've been sick for about six years.  I'm writing that hoping that one day I can look back on it and shake my head and whistle. 

Since becoming bedridden, I've immersed myself in this strange community we have.  I've been reading a lot of blogs, personal stories, manifestos, and scientific research.  It's been good, and I wish I'd done it earlier, but it's also been hard to read the stories of people who are suffering so much.  I've been inspired by people struggling so bravely, and who are finding peace with their situation, but I've also been terrified when I read about people like me who are contemplating suicide or flailing in despair.  Not that flailing in despair isn't an okay thing to do sometimes!  But it's a little close to home.

Part of the reason that I didn't want to "join" this community is that I didn't want to identify as sick.  I've read Eli Clare and people who talk about disability as an identity group, but I wasn't convinced that something as negative as a disability makes a good basis for an "identity."  Also, who wants to identify as sick?  I want to define my life in terms of what I love, not what binds me.  Especially with this illness, who so many people discredit as being psychological, it becomes really important not to seem like you want to be sick.

But then...we are sick.  Magical thinking isn't going to change that.  And there are a lot of people out there who don't want to define their lives by their illness, at the same time that their lives are severely circumscribed by their illness.  Nothing I am thinking hasn't already been thought of by a LOT of ill people in the world, and hearing what they have to say about it has helped me. 

I also went through a sort-of revelation after reading an extremely intelligent critique of the way CFIDS is portrayed by media and both the mainstream and alternative medical establishment, in Peggy Munson's (see my rave about her in my last blog post) Stricken.  And here it is: I have been buying a lot of bullshit!  It's not my fault that I'm sick!  It seems like a pretty straightforward assertion, but I still blamed myself until fairly recently, until reading what other sick people have written about it.  Hippie doctors saying that we can always heal ourselves, and the complementary notion that our inability to heal ourselves is a spiritual deficit, that CFIDS is a metaphor and entirely within our control...that's bullshit!  Duh!  Thanks, everyone! 

So it's been good, reading all this. I'm going to keep doing it. We're a community whether we like it or not.  Though maybe on the really bad days I should limit my intake of other people's suffering.