combine this with flawed information-sharing between health service providers, language barriers, mistrust of western medicine and an inherent lack of culturally-appropriate care, and you’re left with a broken system that’s both ineffective and deadly.
how did we get to this dark place?
listening to “p” tell his story, his shiny bow tie glinting under the bright lights, the room was silent and i couldn’t help wondering how we got to this dark place. how is it that we live in a world in which people are denied the infrastructure they need to be healthy? why are people being denied the medicine they need to stay alive? and how is it that the most a room full of advocates — all of whom driving significant change in their home countries when it comes to cancer care — could do for “p” was listen?
the thing is that while we tend to think of the experiences of others in the world — especially those in far-off places — as different, we are all facing similar struggles and unfairness in varying degrees as consumers of health care, especially when it comes to the kinds of tools we have available to maintain our health and survival. and then there is the end goal that we all share: to live.
as “p” wrapped up his presentation, there was a rumble in the room as people discussed with each other the ways that we could help. it’s just one of the beautiful things of being part of a solid global network — when someone needs help, borders melt away, making room for collaboration and partnerships that hopefully, at best, find solutions for the problem at hand, or at second best, lay tracks for the next patient.
it’s not clear yet what the solution is for “p”, but there’s not much time, and governments are tough nuts to crack, even for a strong, determined global advocacy group. but what’s certain is that everyone has a right to life-saving treatments — whether they live in a different province, or halfway around the world.