I voted. Now you!
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My friend E. called me last night. E. is one of my favorite people--funny, charming, weird, smart, and very together in ways I dream of someday being. Everyone loves her. Anyway, earlier this year she found out she has a disease. Apparently she's had it for years and it nearly killed her; by the time they caught it she was so exhausted she couldn't walk across her apartment without sitting down to rest in the middle of the floor. She spent most of this summer in the hospital while they tried to figure out which enzyme she wasn't secreting, and her insurance didn't cover the whole stay, which put her pretty deeply in debt. Ah, health care in America!
Now she has to take pills twice a day, or she'll die. If she takes too many pills, she'll get diabetes, but the doctors can't tell her exactly how many pills she should take because they don't know. How scary is that? All the miracles of modern medicine boil down to the fact that my poor friend just takes a crapshoot every day at how much medicine she should take, and hopes that it's an amount that will not kill her.
But--not to sound like an ABC Movie of the Week or anything--she's so upbeat and uncomplaining. I mean, I wouldn't blame her if she whined all day and all night, and I think she was very sad this summer when she realized that she was going to have to wear a medic alert bracelet and carry a 90-year-old's supply of pills everywhere she went for the rest of her life. But since she (finally) got out of the hospital she seems to be taking it all pretty much in stride.
Anyway, the point of all of this is that I hope I am like her when I grow up.
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