Abandon All Hope

When men of science abandon their role of medical adviser and become pseudo scientists, predicting future events or  outcomes in a patient’s life, I believe they have overstepped their bounds.

Doctor, based on whatever  knowledge you have available, tell me what ails me and how you believe you can handle it. If you believe it’s beyond your scope of knowledge, tell – in fact if you believe it’s beyond anyone’s scope of knowledge, also tell me, but do not offer a definitive outcome, based on what you believe, unless you have a direct line to the Almighty and he has supplied the words. But even then, I require some proof of that direct line.

See, you wouldn’t be the first who has communicated with a higher power, or at least one who has so claimed,and I ‘m from New York, but we too have to be shown. My point is this: Fictional endings have the power to surprise us or offend us or whatever, dependent on the will of the author, but real life endings or outcomes are unpredictable,  despite medical interventions, non medical machinations or what ever you choose to call unexpected outcomes.

Unexpected by who or whom, to be more correct? Let’s go back to the doctor who has already decided that your problem is without solution and since he has no solution, it is out of his hands and now it’s in your hands and what you do is pretty much up to you. Here’s where the tricky part begins and it’s no longer just a medical question; it’s a question of how you deal with life in general.

If someone tells you that there is no solution to a problem, do you use some expletive (choose your own-we all have favorites mine is b——t!} , think about Newton’s apple and set about  finding either your own or someone else’s solution. Probably not your own, because you’re not a medical expert, but there’s always Google and off you go!

Those of us who are growing older disgracefully remember when our doctor was the family doctor, who was responsible for our complete body, and who sent us to a Specialist when there was something beyond his  sphere of expertise. Not being sexist, but there were very few women doctors, then. The Specialist usually sent his findings to the family doctor, who usually told us we were eventually going to be all right. Even if he never actually said those words, we somehow knew we were in good hands and things would be fine or at lest okay.

What I’m trying to say is that we never abandoned hope. Probably never even thought about it, never felt hopeless or sad. When our time came, our lives would be over, as determined by a higher power. When I was almost 40, I had breast cancer, with widespread lymph node involvement. After my mastectomy, my doctor told me I was fine and I never found out until 40 years later when my doctor retired, and I was given my medical notes, that he had classified my prognosis as:guarded.

I’m one of those persons who believe that it’s not so much what you eat, as what’s eating you, so I’m glad he never told me. I’m glad I believed I was okay, and at 85 I’m too old to die young. When I was young, I lost two friends to breast cancer and I’m  still here, although I bitch like crazy about how it sucks to be old.

Go figure! I can’t, but I can still get up every day thinking something good might happen. Emily Dickinson said “Hope is the thing with feathers.” No feathers. Just a ball of fur named Parker, and he has brought me love.

Abandon all hope? Never,never,never.

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