I was at first reluctant to post this as I did not want to appear to be
becoming involved with the tone of the exchange of ideas on the subject.
However, here it is, an account of my own personal experience with deception
and exploitation:
Bogus - by Barbara Rager
You can say I should have known better. You can say 'you cannot cheat
an honest man'. You can say 'buyer beware', there's no free lunch, if it
sounds too good to be true then...... But the fact is that at the moment I
received the news, a faint glimmer of hope burst into an explosion of joy, a
giddiness that dripped down my spine like liquid sunshine. I could not
contain my laughter. Here it was, blinking back at me from the computer
screen. A cure! A door in the wall of grief and despair against which I had
been smashing my head for the 2 1/2 yrs. since my diagnosis of Parkinson's
Disease.
My eyes flicked through the information furtively, ..... "a botanical
herb", "no adverse side effects", yes, "subcutaneous injections", okay,
"has erased all traces of tremor", yes, yes. This is it, I thought. I
have to show John. I clicked on the printer. A cure! Pressed "print" on
the keyboard. 1200 cases studied, and here an eye witness report! The
printer hummed into action. It's true! I can stop this steady progression
to paralysis. The paper fed confidently through the rollers. I can take
off this coat that is strangling my body. It's over!
The spelling mistakes on the web page, the lack of the designation of
"M.D." behind any of the individuals backing the $7500 treatments, the fact
that I had been contacted through email, yet addressed as "Suzie" which is
my
chat room nick name, the fact that on careful reading the "promise" was
hedged behind vague references to opinions - all should have alerted me to
the fabrication of this prospect, but they did not.
I trembled as the last page sputtered out of the printer. I tore down
to the kitchen where John was making dinner. He looked up and was struck by
my radiance, the light in my eyes, my uncontainable joy. "Look! A cure!"
It was a cure for both of us. We could have our future back. All the
plans, they were
ours again. The jokes about mixing drinks, pushing a wheelchair through the
sand at our beech house, and losing our minds - dark ugly humour that had
strapped us together during unspeakable moments - could now be forever
forgotten. The war was over and the survivors were coming home!
I thrust the pages at him. The ink from the printer was still wet and he
smudged a line with his thumb. "John, this is it! No side effects. Look
1200 studies!" He glanced at the papers only long enough to lay them on the
counter. "You see? Subcutaneous injections!" He took me in his arms. He
held me very tight, pressed my head against his shoulder with his gentle
hand. His body was strong. My words muffled in his chest. I struggled
against his calm unflinching power. And then the tears came. In great
heaving sobs they shook my body with a thundering despair. The truth was
confirmed in his loving embrace. All of this, the studies, the opinions, the
promises, the experts, the veiled and sleek language, all of it was bogus.
I cried and cried for myself, and for the unwavering pain of an illness
which can only degenerate to its hideous end. A pain which was breaking my
heart with a force of vengeance in return for my momentary, delerious
release. And I cried for all the vulnerable ones: the sufferers whose
longing to shed this coat draws them towards any cloaked, skeletal figure
standing in the ring of a street lamp, holding a coat hanger; and for their
care givers whose own sense of defeat and helplessness opens them to the
outrageous and pernicious promises of exploiters.
Chronic illness is a journey fraught and ravaged with the evil of
ignorance. We must proceed with caution. We have support groups of friends
and medical teams. But essentially it is our own responsibility to educate
and guide ourselves around the mirages that promise fulfillment to hopes and
dreams, yet can lead us only deeper into despair. You see I did know. I
knew from the moment I received the unsolited email to "Suzie". I knew
something was wrong. The alert bell rang loud and clear in my head. I
didn't want to hear it.
