What if this doesn’t work for me? I’m writing about it, hoping for it, suffering. Alone. The only thing left is study medication, and I’ll probably have a horrible reaction, if I don’t get the placebo. And then…what’s left? To die?
I’m mad at everyone. They promised, in the 80′s, that the 90′s would be the decade of the cure. I believed them! Yes, I was naive at the time, but please don’t stand at podiums and say such things to impressionable, sick teenagers.
Now I get promises that the information age is accelerating at such a rate that we are sure to get explosions of knowledge that solve medical mysteries at lightening speed! I sit like a wizened prune pit and don’t believe a word. I have been rendered a cynic by years of hope and failure. I can hold a tiny ipod in my fingertips, but what good has this all done for me?
I can now listen to music everywhere I suffer!
I’m still waiting for the cure.