An autoimmune disorder of the heart

“The cure is worse than the disease.” This is a common expression, and the reason it is common, is that it characterizes something that is common. I can think of lots of examples.

Countries have militaries to defend them. But in many countries, perhaps most, the military is the worst problem the country has. The same can sometimes be said about corrupt police; police who are supposed to protect people but actually prey upon them. The police and the military exist for a reason, but they can be actually worse than the original problem. Sure, maybe the country next door won’t conquer you, but if the military is crushing you, how is that better? It’s like your country has conquered itself.

To stray into politics, I think a compelling (or at least plausible) case can be made that our national response to the 9/11 attacks has been worse for us than the attacks. I’m thinking of the wholesale loss of rights as a result of the Patriot Act. I’m thinking of the expense and indignity added to airplane travel. And I’m thinking of the financial and human cost of the resulting wars. How much of our national heritage of rights and freedom have we demolished in the name of protecting it? How much of our treasure have we wasted to avoid loss? How many have died to avoid killing? Maybe we had to do these things, or maybe there was a better way. I don’t know. My point is that at this point we have hurt ourselves in response to the bad guys, more than the bad guys hurt us in the first place.

Anyway, you can probably come up with your own list of cases where the response did more damage than the injury did.

Autoimmune disorders are like this. We have immune systems to protect us from outside attacks. But when our immune systems turn on us it can be deadly. Take type 1 diabetes. My son’s immune system destroyed his pancreas. This would result in death except for the interposition of technology. His immune system, tasked with keeping him alive against theoretical or possible attack, really truly destroyed his ability to stay alive. The cure was worse than the disease. The cure WAS a disease.

OK, I really am working toward something, here. Have you heard of “kicked puppy” syndrome? A dog that is abused as a puppy never learns to trust or act normally. Now, here is what is ironic: the dog was harmed as a puppy. It developed these protective mechanisms as a result. And throughout its life, these mechanisms are active whether necessary or not. The dog can’t stop. It can’t escape from the defensive behaviors, no matter how irrelevant they are. And so the defense mechanisms surely cause more harm than the original abuse ever did. The cure is worse than the disease.

Well, the human heart is prey to the same syndrome. We have a sense of justice that just won’t let go. We can dwell and sweat and grind on some small injustice all out of proportion to the actual harm. In fact, a huge injustice can still be dwarfed by the harm caused by the resulting bitterness.

What’s up with that? I’ll speak personally, now. I have been unjustly treated—who hasn’t, I guess—and that really bothers me. It’s just so unfair. But some injustices have gotten under my skin, and they just won’t let go. They were so wrong, so unfair, that the offense just won’t seem to grow old. It doesn’t go away. It’s new every day. At this point the energy that has been drained out of me is almost infinitely more harmful than what was actually done to me. The actual harm was pretty minor, in objective terms. But the aftermath has been devastating me for years.

It’s like my sense of justice has an autoimmune disorder. I’m not sure what it thinks it is protecting me from, but whatever it’s doing is worse than what the other guys did. And you know what? I’ve about given up thinking it will get better. I’m concluding it will just always be this way. Some people have Type I; some people Lupus, some have Chronic Fatigue. I have this.

Is that too pessimistic? I wish. But I’m old enough to know that resentment is usually something that can’t be ameliorated. What I mean is that you get this idea in your head of being shortchanged or robbed or cheated, and what you want is something the offender can’t possible supply you even if he tried. And I think that, even if he somehow did supply what you want, it still would not satisfy. This thing has a life of its own, detached from reality and from any sort of proportion or cause-and-effect. Bitterness for the sake of bitterness.

Think about my son’s screwed-up immune system. Do you suppose there is a point where it will have killed enough pancreas to be happy? How much would be enough? None. Never. It has a life of its own.

So yeah, I don’t really have a scenario for this autoimmune problem coming to an end. I think by now that even if the other people were suddenly willing to work on it with me (and this will never happen), it wouldn’t fix it. I just have to come to terms with it and live my life with the parts I haven’t lost.