Dear America: Take Ya Time

There are a number of doctors in my life. Some are family, others are friends, and some are mine. Across the board, I know all of them to be good people. But, when those who don’t know what they’re talking about start making up their own rules, I’ve noticed doctors tend to get a little surly. At the very least, the room starts to take on a different vibe.

Over the years, I’ve started to embrace some of these tendencies. I’ve been through enough of my own health problems that it feels as if I’ve backed door my way into unique educational opportunities. I’m not a doctor, but I have a good idea what a doctor would say in certain situations. If states like Florida, Georgia, Mississippi, and Tennessee were individual patients, there’s a good chance a doctor with any sense of self-interest would kindly ask that each state find different providers.

That’s what happens in the real world when a patient decides how to handle her or his own care. I know because I’ve regrettably been that patient earlier in my life. At the very early stages of my recovery, I was so determined to make things return to “normal” as quickly as possible that I was hardly giving my treatment plan time to work. I had my own vision for what recovery should look like, which no doctor on my team would subscribe to. After a major health event, the dust needs to be allowed to settle before a real game plan can be developed.

In my case, what I needed more than anything was time to rest, get adjusted to new medication, and really start to make strides in developing healthier habits that would allow me to live a normal life. I was never given a time table because that would have been irresponsible; it can take a while for medication to start working appropriately and each patient reacts differently. The only way to truly improve was to commit to treatment and take it one day at a time. I learned the hard way what happens when doctors are ignored and one tries to rush back to normalcy. For me, I tried to rush back to work before I was healthy. It didn’t go well, I fell into a deeper depression, and lost another year of my life restarting the recovery process.

It felt like I only started making positive strides when I embraced the idea of uncertainty. I threw all ideas of “normal” out the window and made my mental health my full-time job. It didn’t pay and certainly didn’t allow me to add anything cool to my resume. But the process did give me focus. The more I committed to treatment, the more I could feel myself graduating to the next level. Eventually, I was creating and writing again. I had learned to manage my condition well enough that I had created time and space to work again.

With the White House calling for states to reopen as quickly as possible to get America back to work, I’m reminded of my own foolishness in recovery and why some doctors surely can’t stand their patients. I’m also reminded of how fragmented America has felt for several years. From afar, it’s easy to side with experts and applaud their hard work. When the situation becomes personal, it becomes harder to do so. We’re entitled that way.

Right now, America is sick. Nothing like this has happened before in this country’s relatively short history. The situation requires time and patience to prevent a few bad months from spiraling into something worse. Unfortunately, doctors can’t force patients to follow rules. At a certain point, a patient has to commit to recovery. I’m not sure if America’s there yet.