A very well-meaning and knowledgeable person recently commented to me that nothing is perfect.
She's right, but she was referring to treatment medications for rheumatoid arthritis. The call continued with her professional script which would surely be logged in a customer relationship management (CRM) system.
Her upbeat tone reassured me in many ways. Her personal narrative with rheumatoid arthritis was interwoven with her professional script and her delivery was masterful in many ways.
In an effort to answer my questions which were intensely personal, she encouraged flexibility and resilience without using those words. Several times during our conversation, she said,
"It's all trial and error. You have to be your own guinea pig."
I cringed.
It's just an expression, I think to myself. Don't say anything.
Although I didn't say it in the moment, I really wanted to say the following:
You are encouraging me to think of myself as a rodent? They're cute, sure. I'll give you that, but I'm not a rodent. I'm also not an experiment.
You, an educated medical professional, are telling me to test a medication on myself as if I am a trained scientist in a lab using nameless, untrained rodents, bought in bulk from a distributor?
You're overthinking it! my brain insists.
Am I?
Or is that really the lens through which patients with chronic illness are viewed?
Believe it or not, guinea pigs have a long history in folklore of being used in social contexts, ceremonies, and even medical diagnostics. Folk doctors believing in supernatural powers even used guinea pigs in the treatment of rheumatism and arthritis by rubbing them on the bodies of sick people.
See?
That's what I am missing. I wonder if my insurance company would cover the initial and ongoing costs of a guinea pig? Maybe a prescription for rubbing it on my legs twice per day would help. I can't help but wonder if one guinea pig will do the trick or should I invest in a pair?
It can't just be any guinea pig. No. The solid black guinea pigs are thought to have especially strong healing powers.
Well of course they do.
Guinea pigs are social, smart, and low-maintenance as far as pets go. Their diets should include plenty of vitamin C, but interestingly, as guinea pigs age, they are particularly likely to develop arthritis in their knees. Come on. There's some irony. Guinea pigs with arthritis are supposed to magically cure the people with arthritis.
I don't hate guinea pigs. I don't have any feeling at all about guinea pigs really. What I find objectionable is the expectation that trial and error is a practice that is simply accepted as normal. Patients must align their bodies, minds, and attitudes to this "guinea pig" mentality or suffer tremendous amounts of frustration with treatment protocols.
Until treatment regimens are more targeted to the 100+ genes that cause rheumatoid arthritis and until the immune system reactions are better understood, patients affected by rheumatoid arthritis have little choice than to subject themselves to the process of experimentation.
However, by definition, the process of experimentation until one finds success is called, science.
That means I'm not a guinea pig.
I am a field researcher-maybe.
I'm a person.

Comments
Post a Comment