Yeah, Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, but i definitely do feel like one this Saturday evening. I help others while helping myself get through this thing called “Life’. Growing up, this is not how I would have imagined or planned things to be. I should be some kick ass attorney in New York, living in a high rise, have a driver and basically living my best life. You notice what I didn’t mention there? A partner in life, a soul mate, a significant other. Growing up, it always bothered people that I never had the traditional goals of marriage and family. I never dreamed of being married or played dress up. Even in fourth grade when playing “marriage” I backed out. I knew it was just make-believe, but I felt the vows were real and I shouldn’t mess with that. Is that strange? My mother raised me to believe I could be and do anything and she always focused on me and never sold me the fantast that I needed a man and family in order to be complete or a “real” woman.
I always loved that.

As I facilitate a group of those who are broken hearted, those who have had their sense of self destroyed by a narcist; I’m over here struggling with my own issues of the heart and mind when loving a toxic person. My heart is a moron while my brain is BRILLIANT. I feel like such a phony this week. Here I am, this fearless leader that is a go to and I can barely form thoughts this week because all the tools that I had, everything I learned, I thought I was brave enough to see him and I wasn’t. I crumbled and I was filled with emotion. As we hugged, I felt my body warm up. I felt myself calculating my height to his and as I stood on the curb, his head in the space between my shoulder and chin, I thought about snapping his neck. Truly taking my hands and just twisting the head in the different direction as a bad adjustment…like a chiropractor.

When we had sex, it was everything that I wanted. He felt amazing and I haven’t felt like that in years but then I remembered how disgusting I was. My stomach is huge and hangs over from a hernia that the Drs won’t fix. I can’t understand how I’m filled with so much waste in my stomach from not going to the bathroom. I don’t understand how these Dr’s don’t care and aren’t cutting me open to just get everything out of me. I want it all out. I want my thin stomach again. I want a lot but nothing as much as how badly I wanted him to just apologize, tell me I’m beautiful and give me the lie that I’m all that matters and I’m everything. I just want to feel like something…anything.

I apologize for the incorrect date mentioned. This was not posted on Saturday as it should have been.

How many times have we said this to ourselves? I never once believed in regrets because there was no use in having them since you can’t change the past so why dwell on it? The one thing I wish that I could get past is all the money I’ve spent, wasted & lost…especially regarding cancer.
That’s right! I have cancer. Stage 4 to be exact. Neuroendocrine Tumors…lucky me, their malignant. It’s also the same cancer that Steve Jobs had & Aretha Franklin. When I was first diagnosed, I was asked about my health insurance because it’s one of the most expensive cancers to have, so if you have empty pockets, SEE YA! Steve Jobs had all the money in the world, and he didn’t make it. Unfortunately, he was misdiagnosed as was Aretha Franklin. You can have pancreatic NETS, but they were diagnosed as having pancreatic cancer. Chemotherapy does not work on NETS, and they found out the hard way.

Is this the cancer of the Type A Personality or the rich and famous? Possibly but not entirely. It’s an extremely rare cancer but also a cancer that was never taken seriously until Newsweek had on their front cover “TOP 10 Cancers Insurance Companies are Taking More Serious” I MADE THE CUT! WOOHOO!!
Not exactly something to celebrate but it’s comforting in knowing that it’s making waves. Drs are now noticing misdiagnoses and that’s a great thing. Too bad they don’t always have the same demeanor when requesting payment for treatment.

You would think that telling a bill collector what was going on that they would lay off the calls, but it seemed as if they called more just to make sure I didn’t kick the bucket. Yes, I make jokes but it’s the only option I have. The healthier option…it may not be the best but if I sat and really thought about my life, I’d cry. Why do that? I’m still here 4 years later when I was first given 3 months. I have my son, but I’ve lost those whom I loved as well, so it doesn’t make things any easier, but I still move on. The fact that one of the best hospitals in the world let me leave the ER that night, once again thinking it was all stress and my fault.

I received a phone call the next morning with the news that a tumor was found, and it is more than likely cancer. When asked why they wouldn’t tell me that when I was there, they said they don’t do that sort of thing in the ER because they need to move patients out and that would cause a dramatic delay in flipping beds. Was that a direct quote? No, but the first half of it was.

This hospital had my appointments booked so far out in advance that no ER Dr could understand why because I visited them a lot. I wish I still could visit as often but over the years I’ve been medically gaslighted, I’m too afraid to go. Sad huh? So, I sit at home. I cry. I’m in pain that nobody seems to understand because it does make me sound like a wimp to say my stomach and side hurt all the time, but it’s true. Damned if you do. Damned if you don’t.

This amazing hospital broke the news over the phone to me. Had my appointments so far in advance that one night an ER Dr lied and said I was related to him to have them moved up. I won’t list him, but I certainly will never forget what he did. Thank you for that. I still thank you each night I close my eyes and every morning they open. Thank You.
As this hospital finally did the right thing, I received calls about my bills and how was I going to pay for my injections because my insurance did not cover it. Well, I lost my job after having my boss meet the oncologist with me for support. She asked what stage and he said 4. That Monday, I was let go. I then had to pay for COBRA which was almost $1,000 a month. Created a GoFundMe page where I received so much love and support, had a benefit event for myself which a great friend of mine created and as all of this was happening, I didn’t qualify for back pay on social security because I was able to pay my bills and receiving money. I was also shelling out $30,000 an injection. YUP! The hospital bill collectors would contact me and say that if this wasn’t paid, they would stop treatment. I promised my son that I would live forever when he was 3. His Dad died in 2017, my mother was murdered in 2016…I couldn’t put my son through another loss, so I paid and every month as I struggled, I still smiled and paid it because it was another month with my son. They said I was inoperable and as no good news ever came from this place, I still paid and researched on my own because I made a promise.

If you’re wondering how the title of this ties in. Well, I’m almost there.

I wish someone would have told me about applying for Medicaid and disability and most importantly contacting the pharmaceutical company who made this injection about a discount card or something.

I lost my house, I lost a car, I’ve lost my self-respect because friends definitely leave you when it’s too tough to deal with and people also get mad when you don’t die fast enough and ask for donations back because you’re still here and the best is when your very good friend who held a benefit for you lies to people and tells them that you faked cancer and used all the proceeds to go to New York. He will never know how humiliated I was because I’m not only dying but I’m struggling like nobody’s business. I take a lot of effort to not look sick, which that’s a whole other venting session. I can’t ask for help in general but definitely not now. Why? Because I didn’t die. Because I had so many awful things said about me because people think they know the whole story without even asking.
I ended up in one of the most abusive relationships I’ve ever experienced. My face was broken in 3 places, I was being poisoned, there was a murder for hire in effect for me and I went through all of that alone. Just once I would love for someone to go to a Drs appt with me. To not have people stare at my arms because they are covered in bruises that won’t go away and scars because I’m a hard stick, so I allow multiple chances through multiple nurses to try. The most was 12 pokes. I was made to look like a monster, a junkie, everything else but sick with cancer. I had on my discharge papers by one ER Dr that I looked disheveled. I went to the ER with no make-up on, but I’m glad to know how I look when I don’t feel well. I went in one time and laughed when my aunt came with me and was accused of pill seeking because I was sick around the Dr, but he walked in with me sitting upright and laughing. I’ve heard how I don’t look sick and that’s held against me in ways that disgust me. This hospital has no problem asking me for my money but talk so much about me behind my back and leave all those nasty comments for me to read in my discharge papers.

If I knew then what I know now…I wouldn’t have made a single payment. I wouldn’t have tried my hardest to fake it until you make it, and I would not have given refunds years later.

I never grew up not having dinner in my stomach, but my son has had more nights than I’m proud of. I’m broke. I’m sick. My stomach hurts. My side hurts. I can’t afford to feed my child. I have nothing left to sell and I’m completely alone and would give anything to have someone by my side, someone to watch TV with me and someone to really take care of me and help me with my son because there are days, I cannot even be a mom. I’m so happy to still be here and I feel so ungrateful to complain about these things because I should be thankful to still breathe and watch my son grow up, but this is the slowest death ever. I don’t welcome it any faster, but just give me back my life. I was so naive…especially after having a second opinion and they did the surgery (it was actually my 3rd) that everything would go back to normal.

I went through all of this while being with an abusive narcissist. I went through all of this alone and granted the narc has been out of my life for a few years now, why should I have to still try and get my friends back that I lost? They left me. They don’t get to come back now because he’s gone. They can live with the shame of abandoning a friend with stage 4 cancer who was getting beat up. I regret ever sharing my feelings of what was happening because I never would have if I knew they would have left. I regret asking for help and I regret going to the ER that night.

If I only knew that what I know now….i would have done it differently.

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