June 26, 2022 - Turbo Cancer: Day 15
Torturing Nice Old Ladies
On this day, last year, we were just waiting.
We were waiting for test results.
We were waiting for more tests.
We were waiting for answers.
We were waiting for relief.
It had been fourteen days since I took my mom to the emergency room with a small, painful lump in her groin.
There were still no answers- but the intense pain had transformed her body into her enemy. Her mind and spirit were still strong and whole- but the pain was breaking her down.
It was tearing at her soul.
The pain was a gleeful demon, wreaking havoc.
I had never met real pain before. I had been living in the illusion of a safe, secure and kind world. I had believed in the general goodness of all human beings.
I had never imagined that our powerful leaders would want to maim and torture a nice old lady, like my mom. I didn’t know that they had given themselves over to dark forces, in exchange for money and influence. I did not yet understand that we are pawns in their game. I had not yet realized the depths of the evil that inhabits the earth.
The previous day, I had gone to Walgreens for my mom’s pain pills. They were low on stock, having only seven of the thirty pills prescribed. On this day, I returned to Walgreens to complete the prescription.
I waited in line for forty minutes. People in line ahead of me were also struggling to obtain necessary pharmaceuticals. The store, it seemed, was running low on every type of medication.
Finally, when it was my turn, I explained that I had filled a partial prescription the day before, and was back for the rest of the pills. The pharmacist listened to my story, and then he said: “No.”
He told me that, when I accepted seven pills the day before, I had forfeited my rights to the remaining twenty-three. He said that my mom’s prescription was now void.
I was unable to comprehend what he was saying to me. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it.
My mom had pain that had changed her completely, overnight.
My mom had a lump in her groin that was doubling in size daily.
We still didn’t have a diagnosis.
We still didn’t have a treatment plan.
We still didn’t have a strategy.
My mom was suffering.
And there was no access to relief.
And the system didn’t care.
I fell apart. At fifty years old, I found myself, standing in a Walgreens, crying, begging a man in a white coat to show mercy.
I asked him to break protocol- to help ease the suffering of a fellow human being.
I told him about my mom and her strange lump and her debilitating pain.
I told him that, in that moment, he was the only person on Earth who could help her.
I cried and I begged and I pleaded.
He shrugged his shoulders, turned his back on me, and walked away.
I couldn’t believe it.
The western medical system is void of humanity.
The system is abusive and cruel. There is no regard for human life or health. We are test subjects.
You are telling a very important story. A story that, I have little doubt, has unfolded, is, and will, quietly unfold repeatedly for many others. Heartbreaking and infuriating.