so how long are we going to just let people die in our hospitals, wait helplessly for tests, take on arduous caregiving roles without support, and not have access to the therapies that could save their lives?
earlier this week, i attended a launch event called
i am number 12
, a campaign in which 12 rare disease advocates participated in a photo exhibit to raise awareness for
canada’s national strategy for drugs for rare diseases
— a strategy given the green light by the federal government earlier this year. in march, to be exact. after years of advocacy, lobbying and campaigning by rare disease champions, led mostly by the
canadian organization for rare disorders
, this was a huge victory. and yet, eight months after the big announcement, ask anyone involved in the rare disease space — from patients to pharma — about the status of this much-needed strategy and they use words like, “stalled,” “non-existent,” and “unknown.”
hence this event, which, although spectacular and illuminated with compassion, courage and perseverance that even the bravest of us would find hard to understand, was yet another reminder of how far we have not come.
this is it, right now, right here: life
making any kind of change in healthcare these days feels much like being the kid in a toy store with your parent and being fixated on something that they think is too expensive, not useful or will take a boatload of patience and effort to build. they put you off with comments like, “maybe for your birthday,” “grandma might get you that,” or “let’s see what’s around the corner,” hoping your attention gets caught by the next shiny, happy thing, and that a tantrum doesn’t happen at the cash register.