(Community Matters) My friend says if you listen to someone, you cast out his demons. . . . You can’t come back if you won’t try. We can’t take space from people who want to get better. . . . So I decided to show them. I took the medicine. I walked two miles everyday until I was sore all over. I’m going to kill myself, and it’s their fault.
THE PATIENT
©2011 Steven Tomlinson
I used to think I could get better if I tried. Now, it’s too late.
My friend says, I deserve better. I don’t believe that.
My friend says, come to her clinic.
I say, it won’t help. You don’t understand.
She says, tell me.
So I do. It’s history. It’s chemical. This is what I am. You can’t fix me.
She says she loves me. I don’t believe that. I go with her anyway.
The doctor’s a kid. He asks me, do you want to feel better?
I’m used to how I feel.
Do you want to feel better?
You don’t understand.
He says, tell me.
But it’s too late. I have the life I deserve.
He says, when you’re ready, we can help you feel better.
The woman at the desk wants me to pay.
But I’m poor.
Yes, she says. So what can you afford?
I’ve got five dollars. I need two for the bus.
Then you can pay three today so we can help others.
So say what you want about me, I didn’t get no free health care.
My friend invites me to her patient support group.
Why would I go? I don’t like sick people.
Instead, I go back to the doctor:
Did you take the medicine? Did you walk?
I did not.
Do you want to feel better?
There’s nothing I can do.
Then why did you come back?
You remind me of my son.
What’s he like?
He laughed like you.
What happened?
It doesn’t matter.
So you know how to love people. We need more of that. Take the medicine. Walk. See what happens.
You can’t fix me.
No, but when you’re ready to feel better, we can help.
The woman at the desk wants me to pay.
Why should I?
If people don’t pay, the doctor doesn’t eat. Believe it or not, we’ve got patients worse off than you.
I give her five dollars. No free ride for me.
My friend says if you listen to someone, you cast out his demons.
That’s what happens at the patient support group?
Come once, she says. I won’t ask again.
So we meet at her house. We sit around a plate of vegetables, and people talk.
One guy lost weight. One guy quit smoking.
Why am I here?
Then they ask me: Do you want to feel better?
I’m used to my life. It’s what I deserve.
Think about your children.
That’s none of your business. Would you respect my dignity and leave me alone.
And this lady says: Mister, unless you can afford gold-plated health insurance, you can’t afford to be that unsociable. You’re at our clinic; you’re our business.
I don’t like this group. It’s nosy.
But you like the clinic.
I like the doctor.
So two weeks later: [A conversation with the Doctor:]
Have you been walking?
I can’t walk that far.
And the medicine…?
No.
I’m going to miss you.
Oh, I’ll be back.
You can’t come back if you won’t try. We can’t take space from people who want to get better.
You don’t care. You’re just like everyone else.
Life’s tough. We’re in it together. When you’re ready to feel better, you’ll come back.
The hell I will!
So, I went back to the patient group: The doctor won’t see me because I’m not making progress. That’s not fair!
What are you doing?
Nothing. I’m doing nothing, because nothing helps.
And then they say: We hear you. We’ve been there, but if you don’t do what the doctor says, nothing changes. And if nothing changes, they win.
They? Who’s they?
The people who really don’t care about you — or any of us. People who want proof that compassion is a waste of time and money. If you don’t try, the clinic looks bad, and things get harder for all of us. Now, you may not care about yourself, but still, you’ve got the power to help people or hurt them. So do what the doctor says.
I won’t get better.
You won’t know ‘til you try.
So I decided to show them. I took the medicine. I walked two miles everyday until I was sore all over. I’m going to kill myself, and it’s their fault.
Two weeks later [at the Doctor]: You’ve lost five pounds. Your cholesterol is down. How do you feel?
I’ll tell you how I feel. I feel angry. See, I can do it. I can get better. I deserve better. I’ll show you.
[Pause. A realization. No,] We’ll show them.
The Patient is the fourth of four vignettes Steven wrote and performed for the People’s Community Clinic 2011 fundraiser: #1 The Doctor, #2 The Nurse, #3 The Competition
Community Matters 