American Feminism Was (Is) a Psy-Op. Western Medicine Shored up Male Power. Discuss.

This post is about American feminism specifically since that’s the brand I know the most about and the one that affects me every day of my life.  I am not talking about other “feminisms” in other places but here in my own country where, after 100 years of feminist activating, including actual and/or perceived successes American women still face the following oppressive realities of living under American men’s particular brand of patriarchy:

1.  We are removed from natural food and water sources and rely on necrophilic men to supply us and our dependents with the material necessities of life including food, water and plant-based medicine;

2.  Our land including our soil, air, water and biomass (i.e. food, pets and ourselves) have been consistently poisoned since the 1940s (that we know about) with male-made nuclear radiation where this kind of ionizing radiation is known to be dangerous and not compatible with life or health;

3.  Physical and mental “health” have been medicalized where “health problems” are synonymous with “medical problems” meaning that in America, health and Western (capitalistic patriarchal) medicine are the same thing;

4.  All institutional power remains in men’s hands with only token female representation in positions of military, economic, academic, scientific, police, media, regulatory and all relevant political and social power in every area.  This includes 100% male control over Western medicine and therefore over sick and dying bodies.

This is a partial list and a specific progression but it will do for now.

What is a psy-op?  A psy-op or psychological operation appears to be a propaganda campaign including slogans aimed at a political enemy in order to get them to activate toward and achieve state interests.  For our purposes “state” interests is interchangeable with patriarchal interests and refers to male interests and male power achieved at women’s expense while “propaganda” refers to American media including representations of so-called feminist speech.  Working backwards, we can see that once feminists (of all people!) started activating towards and achieving patriarchal goals, there was indeed a propaganda/slogan campaign that preceded it.  Also for our purposes, we can presume both causation and intent where the result of this propaganda campaign — women activating towards male interests — was completely foreseeable and besides, if men didn’t like the result of women activating towards male and against female interests men could’ve stopped or changed it at any time.  Of course they never did.

Continue reading “American Feminism Was (Is) a Psy-Op. Western Medicine Shored up Male Power. Discuss.”

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Cannabis Refugee, Esq. One Year Later. (Meta Discussion)

As my readers may’ve seen or sensed from the recent comments and content on this blog, I have become disillusioned with the CRE writing project and may decide not to continue writing about my experience as a Crohn’s patient trying to survive outside the Western medical system that was not helping me and was only making me worse.  As far as I can tell, this project has not inspired any additional writing or critical thinking on this subject, my posts have not been widely shared or inspired much interesting feedback, and this work has not opened up any additional opportunities for me in the way of writing or activism.  Of course, those were not the reasons I started this blog in the first place but they are to be considered when looking into the future of this project and whether it is in my or anyone’s best interest that it continue.

My original intent in starting this project nearly one year ago was to document my experiences as a seriously ill woman for whom conventional medical treatments were not working including the social, financial and health-related fallout of this system that seems designed to control and punish sick people while we carry the blame and shame for Western medicine’s failures and even its lies.  At times my health and financial situation have been so precarious that I actually believed (and still do believe) that I am going to die here, alone and in the middle nowhere, and I wanted the truth about what happened to me to be known or at least knowable by those who would wonder what the hell could’ve possibly happened that led to that sad and lonely end.

Continue reading “Cannabis Refugee, Esq. One Year Later. (Meta Discussion)”

The Absurdity of the Euthanasia Discussion in the Absence of Effective Medicine and Social Support for the Seriously Chronically Ill.

I cannot tell you how absurd it is to be seeking euthanasia as the final end to this awful Crohn’s journey when I’m not suicidal and I don’t want to die.  What I do want, all of which is illustrated brilliantly in this clip, is 1. effective medical treatment for my disease, or failing that, consistent access to effective pain and symptom relief, in my case medical marijuana which has been used successfully for thousands of years to ease specifically gut ailments and which use is supported in contemporary peer-reviewed medical literature particularly for Crohn’s; 2. social support with fulfilling basic tasks and the activities of daily living like shopping, cleaning, cooking and the like; and 3. to be relieved of external constraints that make existing as a chronically ill person a living fucking hell and a consistent nightmare, which constraints have nothing to do with being ill and everything to do with being an oppressed person and failed consumer/producer under capitalism and patriarchy.  Constraints like poverty.  Fear of (and actual) male violence.  Disability-based (and all) discrimination.  Things like that.

But I can’t have any of those things — effective medical treatment, social support, and freedom from oppression — because under the current system those things don’t actually exist so the easiest thing for everyone would be for me to simply disappear or to have never been born in the first place.  Failing that we have euthanasia otherwise known as assisted dying or medically assisted suicide.  Of course, poor and other unsupported “euthanasia candidates” — who likely don’t have $12,000 and the good health and social support needed to have their efforts rubber stamped/make it official — just know and experience this process as good old-fashioned suicide.  Who knows what Chris Rock really thinks about euthanasia for seriously ill and dying people but he’s not wrong to see the absurdity in it, at least under the current system.

Continue reading “The Absurdity of the Euthanasia Discussion in the Absence of Effective Medicine and Social Support for the Seriously Chronically Ill.”

Happy New Year! 2018 Year In Review (Chronically Ill Version). Ft. Cannabis Refugee, Esq. Meta Discussion.

2018 Year in Review (Chronically Ill version).  I was sick every single day, 365 days in a row, no shit.  I had a couple of relatively good days but I have no idea what I did to deserve them and was unable to replicate them.  I had a lot of bad days.  Overall, I am feeling worse over time.  For some reason I’m still here which terrorizes and terrifies me every minute of every day.  I surpassed my mental and physical limits a long time ago but no one cares what my limits are.  It’s a miracle that I’ve avoided either the hospital or jail due to intractable physical and mental pain.  The End.  LMAO @ “The End.”  Who am I kidding, this is going to go on forever.  I’m starting to think I died and came back because there is no way any human being could live through this for this long and I’m pretty sure I actually died like twice, if not 4 or 5 times that I can think of.  Am I am zombie?  Or a ghost?  A ghost would make perfect sense since I seem to be invisible now.  What the fuck.  I have no idea what’s happening to me.  The End.  LOL.  FML.

But seriously, I have found myself wishing people “Happy New Year!” as if there is anything likely to be “new” about it when my life as a chronically ill person has been completely the same day in and day out for going on 6 years now (I was diagnosed in 2013).  Meet the new boss!  Same as the old boss.  And chronic, progressive illness is the boss baes.  I no longer have much if any say over what happens to me.  For some reason in my well-wishes I have also included something like “I hope 2019 sucks less ass than previous years” but truthfully is late-stage capitalism and patriarchy — or chronic illness — likely to improve with time?  Is it?  I’m just asking.  And apologizing to anyone I may’ve said that to because in hindsight I realize it’s ridiculous.

I have enjoyed (not the right word) writing this blog and interacting with those who choose to do that.  I hope it has been helpful and a cohesive, coherent and relevant project.  I think it has been.  The first posts I wrote for this project were literally the first opportunity and ability I had in the nearly 4 years I have been here to gather and articulate my thoughts about what has happened to me since I’ve been ill and treating with both Western medicine and now medical cannabis, including what it all means politically in a big-picture way.  I think I did that accurately, and radically, and well.  Importantly, this project also helped me to recover my sanity and even my identity which were suffering under the heat and weight of my lived experience — living with a chronic, progressive disease, as an unkept female, under late-stage capitalism and patriarchy is hell, utter hell.  I know there are people here who understand what that means.  I didn’t understand it until it happened to me.

Continue reading “Happy New Year! 2018 Year In Review (Chronically Ill Version). Ft. Cannabis Refugee, Esq. Meta Discussion.”

Aaaaaannnndddddd…We’re Back to Grateful. I Literally Forgot What a Full-Blown Crohn’s Flare Was Like.

So for the past week or so I have been in a full-blown Crohn’s flare.  Being sick as hell all the time anyway, even when my GI symptoms are relatively minimal (meaning, minimal for me as a person with a chronic and debilitating autoimmune and GI disease) I guess I had forgotten how bad things can actually get!  Despite having recently worsening symptoms like crippling fatigue, arthritis in my fingers, toes, shoulders, hips and spine, dizziness and trouble walking, my GI symptoms have been at a blessed minimum lately, consisting merely of having to ruthlessly police my own diet and avoiding most foods available in the supermarket or anywhere; waking up nauseated every single day and having to lay (well, writhe around) in bed for an hour every morning trying to fart (apparently extreme bloating makes one nauseated?  Who knew!); being hit randomly throughout the day with stabbing abdominal pains, gas and bloating, “heartburn” which is really esophageal spasms that feel more like a cardiac event than a gastrointestinal one, pangs of nausea and other distressing sensations, and being glad I live alone so I can accomplish this daily ritual/grind in peace.

Other than that (!!) I felt relatively okay until about 10 days ago when the dreaded intestinal gurgling began.  As far as I can tell the gurgling starts as I become more and more inflamed and less and less able to control my symptoms — is it masticated food trying to bypass an obstruction?  Because that’s what it seems like to me.  In short order I was in a full-blown flare in which my abdomen feels, looks and is like a bloated whiskey barrel overstuffed with boggy loaves of bread, broken glass, 190 proof alcohol, and poison.  The broken glass, alcohol and poison are self-explanatory (severe sharp/gnawing/grinding pain, burning, smothering malaise).  The boggy loaves of bread are my inflamed intestines and that’s exactly what it feels like — for instance, instead of moving and/or bending easily at the waist, bending over becomes grueling and distressing and literally feels like I am working against a waterlogged loaf of Wonder bread where my appendix and terminal ileum should be (abdominal right lower quadrant).  There’s another loaf where my ascending colon should be and so on.  If I drop something on the floor whilst in this sorry state it better be something I won’t be needing for awhile because I literally cannot bend over (or reach!) to pick it up again.

Continue reading “Aaaaaannnndddddd…We’re Back to Grateful. I Literally Forgot What a Full-Blown Crohn’s Flare Was Like.”

It Might Be “Ok Not to be Ok” For a Few Days But It’s Definitely Not “Ok Not to be Ok” Forever. Aka Chronically Ill. But Wait! There’s More.

Stop gaslighting everyone Jessie J!  This song and this sentiment (that it’s “ok not to be ok”) seem to be very popular amongst the very young and “neuroatypical” Tumblr crowd suffering from, among other things, anxiety and depression.  Reading the comments under the YouTube video reveals a lot, well, it reveals a lot of the same thing: young people feeling “not ok” and suffering through dark times only to reemerge triumphant in the end, and probably on addictive and expensive psych meds that will likely cause serious and even permanent side effects like involuntary muscle movements (and death).  That counts as “ok” apparently, and the “not ok” is “ok” if and only if it doesn’t go on too long and as long as you “get help.”

Of course, the side effects iatrogenic illness and injury from the psych meds themselves, including permanent neurological disability and death — and the “not ok” those cause — are worth it as long as the person is made ok now, for the time being.  Whatever “ok” means in this context because I sure as hell can’t figure it out other than that “ok” seems to mean “compliance” and specifically, willingness to engage with and submit to capitalistic patriarchal medicine.  Compliance and submission = ok.  Does this sound like it’s actually ok to not be ok?  Or does it sound like a bunch of shit?

And what happens when people are “not ok” for a long time, or forever?  Just ask someone who is chronically ill how friends and family perceive their illness once it’s gone on for months, years, or a lifetime.  In my own case, when I lost my apartment in a hurricane, had to move in with my ex-partner’s mother and was getting sicker by the day, my friends and family harassed me constantly for “updates” about the hurricane damage, my housing situation and the status of my health but I soon realized they weren’t looking for truthful reports so much as they were demanding constant assurances that I was Ok and that everything was fine.  When the truth was I had never been so not-ok in my life and considering the nature of my incurable, progressive disease I was unlikely to be “fine” ever again.  No one wants to hear that!  Hearing that makes them feel not ok!  And healthy people have to feel ok all the time no matter what, even at the expense of sick people and sick people’s ok.  So is it really ok to not be ok?  No.  Sick people have to learn to fake it if they want (or have no choice but) to maintain these relationships.  But there’s more.

Continue reading “It Might Be “Ok Not to be Ok” For a Few Days But It’s Definitely Not “Ok Not to be Ok” Forever. Aka Chronically Ill. But Wait! There’s More.”

Baby Poop Smoothies in the Age of Nuclear, Autism and Autoimmune Disease. Caveat Emptor Y’All.

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ca·ve·at emp·tor
/ˌkavēˌät ˈem(p)ˌtôr/

  1. the principle that the buyer alone is responsible for checking the quality and suitability of goods before a purchase is made.

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Baby poop smoothies.  Have people heard of this?  It’s along the same lines as fecal transplants, where both are alternative treatments used to treat and even “cure” various bowel ailments from which people are desperate, absolutely desperate for relief.  People suffering from gastrointestinal dysfunction and disease are literally willing to eat, drink and/or rectally insert other people’s shit in order to make themselves feel better, and as a Crohn’s patient myself whose serious debilitating illness was not responding to conventional care, I understand what would move anyone to attempt drastic measures to relieve the pain and disability of a crippling gastrointestinal condition which can quickly make anyone’s life unbearable.

In my own case, I submitted to suffered through 2 years’ worth of ineffective and damaging Western medical treatment for my Crohn’s; the relentless agony of un- and undertreated Crohn’s disease was hellish and terrifying, and despite accepting treatment I was only getting worse.  When I saw what was happening to me, and that the path I was on would not lead to a good place, I took my health and life into my own hands and moved across the country alone to legally treat with medical cannabis, otherwise known as marijuana.  If I hadn’t done that, and was left to suffer through more Western medical treatments (or no treatment at all) I would have likely sought relief with various alternative treatments with little or no regard for their weirdness, offensiveness, or likelihood of success.  Although I had researched fecal transplants and found that they are not indicated for small bowel Crohn’s, which I have, I am sure that eventually I would’ve come across the concept of, and been tempted to try, the Baby Poop Smoothie.

Continue reading “Baby Poop Smoothies in the Age of Nuclear, Autism and Autoimmune Disease. Caveat Emptor Y’All.”