nccotus

about the lawsuit against John’s Hopkins

I became a prophet and lost all my old friends.

I became like the person who came to Jesus whose demons were “legion”—too many doctors; too many diagnoses. Too many handprints on my soul.

a doctor shapes the patient to the diagnosis, sometimes forcibly. This has happened to me too many times.

I have been known as a complainer and as someone who selfishly refuses to accept a diagnosis.

I have to offer in this regard that seldom has it happened that my family and others have cooperated with the diagnoses that hold out a promise for me such as OCD PTSD and partial complex seizures.

these diagnoses reflect my daily struggles in a life giving way. There is also a panic disorder there. And an eating disorder. And serial dissociative disorder, a firm of multiple personality disorder. And, most significantly, organic personality disorder from the crotch damage and the lesion recently removed from my face by the side of my nose. In other words, through all of the decades or errant treatment and the life I led before it the person and the illness are all inscrutable now and this is what is left. I live to take care of myself. I know me even if nobody else does. And I love my son. And, from St. Therese of Avila, “Those who have the Lord lack nothing. God alone is sufficient.”

I want less these days. It took a long time but I have finally understood about how life is a vale of tears and not our final home. I am finally learning how to learn. It is shocking and a reflection of the malpractice that a woman of my innate intelligence and the advantages I have had should have been kept in ignorance, spinning her wheels for such a long time, until such a late age.

I set out here to point out that so far the physical therapy is a working!!! I started yesterday. Not a single complaint. Simply beautiful. I expected a tedious chore at best and instead it is delightful to move these shakes achey old joints. I may live after all!!!

it works!!!