Much like everyone else, healthcare is also caught up in the excitement and buzz surrounding AI. Depending on the news article or some venture capitalist's profit fever, AI is going to reduce the cost of healthcare to mere pennies while increasing profits to a billion zillion dollars, save billions of trees by making the need to fill out 2,363 forms before a doctor’s visit obsolete, and with a little luck, finally make healthcare realize that the fax machine can finally be retired. I know, that last one might be reaching for the stars, but a boy can dream, right?

In the case of dad at that point in his life, which included both his physical and mental health, his definition of a quality life was simple. It was about enjoying a great steak with a bottle of good wine; it was sitting on his porch experiencing every aspect of a good thunderstorm, it was giving treats and providing a place to sleep for a friendly cat someone had left in his neighborhood or watching an amazing sunset. Most importantly, for dad a quality life meant remembering the names of his kids, talking to them about their lives and providing advice whenever he could, helping his oldest (me) every time he fell off something even though said son was technically an adult, or being a friend to his long-time friends. It was not being confused by an elevator, it was not being lost in a town he had been living in for decades, or not recognizing anything about his own house. For dad, that was not living a quality life, it was being akin to being a zombie or undead. Pure ridiculousness.

Human caused problems are caused by the conflict that arises when our better angels try to party with our political beliefs. When both drink a beer together, we can get cures for cystic fibrosis or even cancer. However, when one wants to drink water while the other is looking for a vodka tonic, we get trouble. In this case, we get opioid policy prescriptions that are not conducive to the chronic pain, or any type of pain for that matter, experience. To put it another way, my quality of life suffers so others can fill comfortable with their vodka tonics.

This story began last week after I noticed an increase in pain, numbness, and some other symptoms following my most recent radio frequency ablation. After trying to be a tough guy for more than a week, I called my doctor on Friday morning and scheduled an appointment for Monday at 8:30 a.m. Here is the kicker which might be controversial. Not only do I not regret having the ablation procedure, but I also don’t consider it a failure just because I'm experiencing more pain.

Here is my current situation. My pain management doctor has recommended another radiofrequency ablation, which I’m not excited about. History shows my record of success (though I’m not entirely sure how to define success anymore) with this procedure has been mostly positive, with only one negative side effect that landed me in the emergency room. To be clear, I’m not concerned, worried, or scared about having another ablation. At this point, I think I have more experience with them than with dating. Ablation procedures do hurt—a lot. It is very much a "fight fire with fire" approach to pain management. I’m just not sure if this treatment is the right solution for my problem. It kind of feels like going to physical therapy for a bad cough.

This past Sunday, the great Jon Oliver talked about hospice care on his show Last Week Tonight. Based on my personal experience with hospice care for my dad, I felt his show did an excellent job examining this important topic. However, if I have one complaint or suggestion for Oliver, it would be that they should have mentioned the utter weirdness of the first meeting with a hospice provider. For some reason, no one seems to want to discuss this first meeting.

Obtaining a second opinion, any opinion, should be a time of opportunity, of excitement, because it is a chance at a higher quality of life. Maybe if we made it harder to obtain a fast-food cheeseburger than health care, I would not have to write posts about whether I should seek a second opinion because I’m so exhausted from living in severe pain.

On Friday, June 28th, the U.S. Supreme Court overturned a decades-old legal precedent that gave government regulatory agencies the power to interpret vague legislation when crafting regulations. This legal precedent, known as the Chevron doctrine, allowed courts to defer to an agency's and its subject matter experts' interpretation of the law if the statute was ambiguous. Now, judges will make those decisions.

I thought I would share my thoughts and experiences obtained from having so many surgeries. However, to make it more interesting for you, the reader, while providing me with an opportunity to become more articulate, I will add a tongue-in-cheek element that is not normally found in a post like this. After all, if you can’t have some fun while contemplating the ridiculousness that is our healthcare system, are you really a chronic patient?

Can’t a hospital be the one aspect of our care that goes out of its way to reduce vulnerability? Shouldn’t this be part of everyone’s standard of care? Asking who I am and what my date of birth is only helps the hospital accountants and finance people. Why do they get more attention and care than I do during my time of vulnerability?

Too often in healthcare we want to judge success based on quantifiable measurements like fear, risk but not reward, or some other negative that ensures no chance of a higher quality of life. Maybe if we switched to metrics like reward, number of new chapters in our life, or even coolness of one’s scar, we would see higher quality of life scores. Here is my surgical story which is being written after a 6-mile hike yesterday, life isn’t that bad despite the chronic relentless pain and working towards my 12th surgery.

Yes, patient stories need more attention and visibility since we have traditionally been shut out of meetings, conferences, webinars, and other methods of exposure common in healthcare. But this attention and visibility cannot come at the expense of learning about the Rheumatology Research Foundation’s #RheumChampion program. It can’t come at the expense of learning the story behind the Foundation’s $200 million-plus worth of targeted research grants. Like patients, there are researchers and foundations doing incredible work but not getting the attention they deserve. We need to know their stories too because that will ultimately help raise my quality of life! Bringing the patient perspective must mean finding a blend of stories so no one feels left out, alone, forgotten, or intimidated within this beast we call healthcare.

It’s election season?! While the political landscape may seem tumultuous, it presents an opportunity for chronic pain patients like me to advocate for change. As leaders grapple with the complexities of the opioid crisis and its effects on our healthcare system, it’s crucial for them to understand the perspective of those of us who rely on opioids for pain management. To put it another way, we must share our patient stories as loudly and proudly with our leaders, the power of our stories will change minds.

Let’s talk about Ozempic for a minute.

For my long-term fans and supporters, you know I generally don’t discuss issues relating to health care unless I have direct, personal experience with it. I’m a patient advocate, not a product spokesperson. In this case, I am making a small exception to that rule. Although I have never been prescribed Ozempic (at least not yet), I recently received a Type 2 Diabetes diagnosis which Ozempic is designed to treat. My doctor has expressed interest in prescribing it for me but is sure my current health insurance would not cover it at this point in my diabetic journey. For the time being he prescribed Metformin. Patient advocacy works best when I’m transparent with you the reader.

Discover the Truth About Healthcare Price Transparency: In this eye-opening essay, explore the complexities of price transparency in healthcare and its impact on patients like you. Delve into personal anecdotes that shed light on the real-life implications of accessing transparent pricing information. From navigating medical emergencies without insurance to grappling with the nuances of affordability, this thought-provoking piece challenges conventional wisdom and advocates for systemic reforms in healthcare. Uncover the realities behind price transparency initiatives and join the conversation on reshaping the future of healthcare access and affordability. Read now for insightful perspectives and actionable insights.

In conclusion, the evolution of pain management underscores the intricate interplay between healthcare and capitalism. While pain recognition as the fifth vital sign represented a significant milestone in patient care, its commodification precipitated unforeseen consequences. Moving forward, a concerted effort to prioritize patient welfare, mitigate profit-driven practices, and foster evidence-based policymaking is essential for ensuring equitable and effective pain management practices.

Instead of rapid, and often emotional instead of logical pendulum swings like we are experiencing now with pain as the 5th Vital Sign, we need a return of nuance. We need the return of policy-based nerds. We need drug companies who work towards better science first and shareholder profit second. We need doctors who understand that hope belongs on Hallmark cards because the real comfort to patients is medical options. Finally, and most importantly, we need more chronic and acute pain stories from patients based on vulnerability and life, not ideological entertainment. This nuance will finally help us bridge the gap between healthcare poetry and prose which will ultimately lead to a higher quality of life for all I have to believe.

Despite the pain, despite the fear, despite the trauma of the night of my rock-climbing accident, I have only regretted my choice to go climbing that night a handful of times at most. Even more surprising to many would be the fact of couple of those times were basically academic exercises wondering where my life would be today if I hadn’t gone climbing that night. I’m a potato kid (born and raised in Idaho) who went to college at an institution whose biggest claim to fame is its blue smurf turf the football team plays on. Yet I was invited to speak at a medical conference at Stanford University. Yet, I went back to school and earned a second degree in accounting despite having 4 surgeries while in school. Yet, I bought my first house. Yet, yet, yet… My point, yes trauma causes drama. However, it is a workable problem for which can make our stories intriguing and exciting which gives us a better shot at getting the girl like in the movies (in my case the girl being Stanford University, a house, a second degree, and most importantly, this opportunity to share my story with you as a patient advocate).

When dealing with pain, my quality of life and lately, what living in near constant pain would do to my atrial fibrillation (there is some new research indicating chronic pain is a top cause for Afib) were at the top of my mind when considering treatment options like steroid shots. My thought process was, how might we lower my pain levels quickly so I could have more fun than tears in my eyes?