Leading with Joy
"You must be very angry." This was the (rather leading) question of one of the journalists I spoke during my brief tenure of being a spokesperson for the Health Council of Canada. We'd been discussing the eight months I waited for funding approval for Enbrel, of how the RA ate my life and made me more disabled, to the point that I never regained the ability I had before the flare. And likely never will. The reporter seemed to very much want me to be angry, to hold forth with a blistering indictment of the system, to grieve the loss still. And I'm not, I didn’t and I don't. I think I may even have looked a little puzzled at them before I answered. Because seven years ago, I thought I was going to die. At this time seven years ago, I thought it might very well be my last Christmas. And seven years ago, I was absorbing everything I could, mentally recording and honouring my life and the people in it because I had begun to say goodbye to t...