Dear Arthritis Foundation:
This is your logo. "We Can Help." What a fetid pile of bullshit!
Three years ago, my family doctor diagnosed me with rheumatoid arthritis. She urged me to seek further treatment. Getting into a specialist, with or without insurance coverage, was a waiting game I didn't want to play. The cause of rheumatoid arthritis remains unknown, despite ongoing research. The medicinal options available for treatment have such frightening and debilitating side-effects, I - like millions of RA sufferers - opted to seek more natural means.
In the meantime, I've developed my own unscientific theory on the cause, and have yet to see your fundraising dollars produce a study on the hormonal links to this crippling disease. Apparently, your organization ignores the masses of help-seekers on forums all over the internet; the massive numbers of women of childbearing age who all seem to have developed RA within a few years of cessation of The Pill and other man-made hormonal contraceptives. THAT'S where you need to start studying.
That is, of course, presuming that the millions of dollars your volunteers raise actually go to studies, which I outright disbelieve. Immediately after my diagnosis, my family and friends rallied and raised funds on my behalf, in my name, to support The Arthritis Foundation. We regularly receive not one, but four (count 'em ... 4) copies of your glossy, high-quality, environmentally toxic newsletters every couple of months. For three years, you've not once failed to send each member of my home their very copy, all at the same time. Uh, thanks?
Today, in desperation after visiting my family doctor, I called your local office in search of support. Specifically, I sought information on programs and/or resources to help people like me. Stay-at-home moms too young to qualify for Medicare, too responsible to qualify for state aid, but without adequate financial means to seek medical treatment without feeling like a burden on my own family - those people like me. I have permanent disfigurement in my hands, feet and elbows. In three years' time, despite my best effort at dietary adjustments and homeopathic remedies, my hands look like those of a woman 50 years my senior. My doctor calls it "rapid deterioration." I know I'm not the only ME out there, because we're all over the internet. We're desperate for help in the truest sense of the word.
This morning, your office gave me a great big heap of, "I'm so sorry, but the only way we can help you is to give you the telephone numbers of the prescription drug manufacturers. Some of them offer prescription assistance programs." Are you fucking kidding me?
So, Dr. John H. Kimmel, MD (CEO), the jig is up. You have been promoted to the top of my Shit List. I hope you and your FARCE of an organization, a corporate lion feeding off the despair of chronically ill people, enjoy the ride. From here on out, I plan to do whatever I can to expose the bullshit. Starting now.
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