Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Reality

In reality, having a life threatening illness is nothing like those sweet movies about people dying, surrounded by their loved ones, treated with respect & dignity, having heartfelt communications to leave behind and take with. Other people's illness and potential death does not, in my opinion, bring out the best in people. It brings out a lot of other stuff instead. Their own fear or denial of death for one thing. Some people (too many) treat me like I'm on my way out but pretend that's not what they're thinking. It's clear anyway, by the other things they say and do. I keep trying to find where the expiration date is stamped that everyone else can see except me.

Whether I'm actually dying or not, I'm constantly treated as if I'm on my way out, what a shame, how sad, glad it's not me. When my color looks good because I got enough rest they are surprised and consider it an anomaly that will pass. I think I get why sick people get into a bad mood or feel angry.

Here's a good one: "well, at least you've lived your life, it's not as if you're young."
Well crap, there's that expiration date again, which by the way, is around 50 for women, ill or not. After 50, you've "lived your life already." If you're over 50, and ill, and broke, well then, you're like a stock whose value has plummeted. Maybe that's applied to men also, unless they have a lot of financial assets, which brings anyones value, way up. How much is a human beings life worth by itself ? Not much.

When people know you're sick, a lot of people use a syrupy tone as if you are also mentally disabled. If they know that you are broke as well, they look right through you with a bit of disgust on their face, as if to say, how dare you exist. You need to exit, stage left, and quit screwing up the Orwellian scenery.

I bet all people who have or had a potentially lethal illness could write an editorial on all the truly thoughtless things people say and do. But all is lovely, lovely, just peachy keen. Its impolite to talk about anything that's not. I think I'll live just to piss people off who are holding their breath. I have a few more things I have to do while here anyway. As my father would've flatly advised: "screw them if they can't take a joke."

What's not a joke is that if I become too ill to fully care for myself; cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, errands etc, I will be shipped to the nearest county-run convalescent hospital, where of course, I won't be convalescing. That's the last thing I want, to die in some horrible place. But then again. I guess that's what a lot of people wanted and didn't get, so I won't bother to feel singled out. In any case, I know where Im going, and I know Brad will be waiting for me. That has to be good enough.

I still know that I could survive this cancer but I am often told that I should hurry up and die, because I can no longer earn enough money, and therefore have no useful value. No one helps me to research cancer treatments or is willing to learn anything about it. I am often ridiculed for my choice not to accept the traditional poisonous treatments. I'm an emotionally strong person but it's a crap shoot whether I will be able to survive all of the factors against me at the same time. I pray every day for strength, that's what keeps me going. When I am betrayed, I think to myself, many have been betrayed. That's the way of the world.

For the past 16 months or so I have had 2 roommate residences, 2 live-in work exchange residences, and one truly horrible stay at an extended relatives home. I left each one when the abuse became intolerable. People have asked who I'm leaving my car to, extended offers to "store my things" (presumably to save me the monthly storage rental fee) ... requested my healthcare power of attorney signed in their name. My personal things have been gone through and stolen at whim. I have been told at every turn that I am going to die, that my value as a human being is very little if it exists at all.

Whatever mistakes I've made, I paid for them all when Brad died. Maybe that's good.

No comments:

Post a Comment