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As discussed, Dad was a hospital administrator, so he often spoke about the operational realities of running a hospital. One of his favorite sayings was “Not for profit doesn’t mean for loss.” So I was probably more aware than the average 15 year-old that people in my condition were a burden on the healthcare system.

Hospitals love chronically sick patients. It’s the insurance companies that hate us. We keep claiming and claiming and claiming. I thought about Grandpa, putting so much more into the system than he took out. Always working and saving, never spending. I knew his way of money had some room for improvement. But mine was going to be worse. Always consuming more than I could produce. I was always going to be a taker.

There was no way I could ever earn enough to pay for all of the treatments and surgeries I would need to get through life. I felt torn between the guilt about being a taker, and the desire to see myself as strong and free. I wanted to be one of the people holding the world up, not dragging it down.

The struggle going on in my head made me a ripe target for the idea that my disease was a condition of the soul. The message of western medicine is that it isn’t your fault but this bottle of pills will fix it. The message of alternative medicine is that it IS your fault, but you can fix it on your own.