I haven’t written to you in some time. Suffice it to say that the daily demands of life are sometimes overwhelming.
Anyway, I have missed you, and I’d like to take the liberty, this April Fool’s Day, to remind people about who the real FOOLS are. MESH IS NO JOKE – not the commercials, not the litigation, and certainly not the deeply personal injuries. You all know that, but it’s my hope that our community’s message still presses into new audiences, into the mainstream discussion among media, and around the proverbial water cooler at work. Any person with even the faintest bit of familiarity about the realities and mind-blowing chain of harm in the conception, manufacture, and implant of mesh knows the physical damage that mesh causes, and the destruction and havoc it wreaks upon the physical body.
But what about ALL THE REST. The SO MUCH MORE. The WHEN WILL IT STOP PART?
What about the reality that still exists when the commercial ends, after the trial or settlement, after all the surgeries than can be done have been done, and all the doctors who can be consulted, have been consulted? Does the general public really understand what’s left of us after all of that unspeakable harm?
I think not.
Injury by mesh is a physically and sexually violent assault. And, it’s an assault that reoccurs, for some women and men; it’s a daily assault, the experience of being reinjured time and again. As with any assault, the injury is not limited to a physical injury.
Mesh is a violent tormentor. It assaults the emotions, the intellect, the heart, the soul, and marches right on to damage families, friendships, jobs, hobbies, and pretty much anything of value in life. It’s damned ruthless and relentless.
Mesh is a cruel teacher. In our daily living and experiences with mesh, we learn who to trust, and who not to trust. Through a mesh-colored-lens, the true character of the people in our lives is revealed. Those we thought to be stalwarts of strength crumble; those we thought to be our closest comforters, suddenly vanish; those we thought were “in our corner” have turned against us; those whom we, ourselves, have helped through life’s harsh realities, are somehow unable or unwilling to reciprocate when the roles are reversed, and this time, we have drawn the short straw.
This experience is paradoxical and surreal.
We also discover those we thought watched us struggle in silence now appear as angels of help and hope. Those we thought to be meek are now our greatest advocates. Those we would not have met, but for this mesh, and the family of chance borne from our shared experience in its grips, have become our most trusted confidants. And in some ways, our family of chance has now become our family of choice.
Mesh is a crucible. By severe test and trial, unlikely heroes emerge, as do inconceivable villains. This improbable combination of elements and characters has become a white hot furnace, from which only the purest substance of the soul emerges. A soul, refined and laid bare by force, leaves only a remnant of its most fundamental quality.
From the crucible that is Mesh Hell can come all kinds of souls. Which words you choose to describe the phenomenon matters not. Anyway you slice it, you’ll find three
An Overwhelming Beauty. . . a soul who rises or has been risen above the hate somehow;
A Tepid Vapidity. . . a soul who’s lost its way in this life, or
A Destructive Odiom, a soul who can’t resist the siren call temporary relief that a vengeful mindset can provide. So shiny is the lure, we forget its hidden hook.
None of us had a choice as to how mesh harmed us and our loved ones, but we each do have the choice to emerge from this pile of ashes as a BEAUTY, though wounded; as VAPID AND NUMB; or seeking to repay evil for evil, falling so far that we, ourselves, have become MALICIOUS.
What will be left of us after the commercials and the trials are long forgotten? What will we have become? It is a difficult question to consider. It is an extremely painful question to consider at all.
We have every reason to be angry to our very core; to lash out in our pain. We have every reason to seek recompense, restitution and AN APOLOGY; every reason to expect those people to pay up, shut up, and go away. We have every rightful reason to hold disdain for these oppressors; the fat-cats who wouldn’t let their wives or daughters go near a mesh product, while they stand in court and so eloquently sing praises to the most holy mesh or stand in a surgery room and implant this ruinous tupperware into another human being, despite knowing there is even the slightest chance of harm. We and our loved ones are permanently injured. We have the right and the choice to be permanently bitter, furious, and set our minds on revenge for the rest of our lives. Who would blame us? Who could? No one.
There is a different option.
What if we chose – no what if we determined to set our thoughts and actions towards living our lives with joy despite the pain, chose to recognize the beautiful, chose to accept whatever grace, help, and mercy comes our way. What if we chose to be grateful that it isn’t worse; grateful to have had mesh removal; grateful even to have the knowledge that this implant is what has harmed our loved ones and our families? What if we chose to be beacons of hope, and a representation of the indomitable human spirit? What if we chose to joyfully seek occasion to meet others when at all possible, and share our stories to save someone else from harm? What if we became a generation of betrayed and harmed families who refuse to be forgotten; who refuse to go quietly into the night, who refuse to allow our voices to be silenced amidst the clanging noise of the lies, the money, the greed, the inhumane that surrounds us.
And what if we did all these things just to spite them, by reminding them that we are still here.
We are not going anywhere.
We wake up each morning with a clear conscience instead of a Mercedes.
What if our captors are the reason some of us will become great heroes and helpers; the voices that will stop the harm of future generations. What if our joy becomes the bane of their existence, while their baleful existence becomes the instrument of their own demise?
Who would be the fools then?
It really isn’t so unrealistic, unattainable, or impossible – not if we all believe, with an unshakeable knowing that we are here on this planet, not to be ravished, destroyed, and wasted; but to be uplifted and to exemplify the best of humanity, the best of human souls. What if we are the next GREATEST GENERATION, right now? The Greatest Generation didn’t know they would be remembered as such. They simply chose with their wills, with their hearts, and with their minds – they chose to do the right thing, and under tremendous adversity. We remember them for their qualities or fortitude, courage, bravery, persistence, sacrifice, frugality, self respect; love of country and family ; and a deep sense of pride in doing right. We cherish and revere them, and we wish there were more people like them. We mourn that so few remain. We mourn that our values are dying out with every death of one great soul, counted among America’s Greatest Generation.
What if we ARE the people like them. Mesh might be a new kind of evil to enter into the history of the world, but adversity and triumph over evil are as old as time itself.