ANGER AND THE ART OF COMPASSION
I am tired. Prior to this past few weeks I was not one for self-disclosure full-scale but today I am fed up. I have had it. DONE. As many know from what I have disclosed in the past, I have had insurance issues related to a chronic condition that I refer to as my life. These have not ended and in fact once again have become exacerbated by the bureaucracy that is the American Insurance system. Have I told you I’m tired? I. Am. I’m tired enough that I can’t even bring myself to rehash the actual problem here today. I will save that for another time when I will be organizing some sort of campaign for change, and asking…no begging… for your help in doing this.
I’m tired, but thankfully not too tired yet. My life is complicated enough, admittedly it is oft times of my own doing. I don’t need help to screw it up further. At first I thought I really need to do something because this is my life. Then I thought, I work in an altruistic profession and have really tried to devote my life to public service and for what? Well you know what? It’s not ALL about this problem. I know why I have done that and I know why I continue. I don’t need to spell it out here. But I do feel the need to say why I am intent on continuing to fight this problem even in the face of what has been complete and utter defeat. I need to do it because this is my life, and this is the life of so many people who have it so much more complicated than 
myself. People I have met who have mortgaged their houses, lost their homes, lost their cars, their livelihoods not just to the scourge of disease, but to the ever worsening scourge of inefficient healthcare and its exorbitant costs. I plan on continuing because my awareness has been raised out here in the blogosphere, by people who celebrate the differences of their children for what they are…differences…not something to be denied by a system unwilling to recognize that the world does not work according to their dysfunctional cookbook methods of management. I don’t want to frighten anyone, but some day all those special needs children, whose parents celebrate, love and adore them (as they should!)- and have therefore planned for every contingency, couldn’t possibly predict what the system will be like when they are gone. I am a (dare I say?), intelligent, yet single income, long-term chronically ill woman who is fully capable of organizing and speaking for myself. What happens to those people who can’t? The streets, rooming houses, shelters, and soup kitchens are full of them… that’s what.
I’m tired, but I’m not done. I’m just a bit too tired today, maybe even this week, but I’m counting on a second wind, and as soon as it comes you will be the first to know. I need a little time to get organized.
