Because being Old”er” and sick isn’t Cute
I wake up every morning at 4 am, struck with worry, wondering how on earth we are going to make it, what the fuck does a future look like?
I have been in the house for 6 weeks, completely, and I am talking almost desperately DIRT poor. Luckily we had some food assistance but that wasn't but a few hundred dollars and there are other things that need resolving, not entirely dependent on the emptiness of my stomach. It has been incredibly hard to recover from a heart surgery with the kind of strife and starvation I have endured.
When you are young, being sick is a giant tragedy, a travesty of sorts which garners a certain level of attention. Your friends are in awe that you survived shit their parents hadn't even gone through, stuck on the imagery that you are touching something they probably won't have to....for another few decades, if ever. I was first struck with heart problems when I was 18, too young for most of my friends to understand the implications. That first Winter I was ill from October through most of November until February of the next year. Some of my friends reached out that Winter, ...
