Sixty. Thirty. Ten.

Look, things have been going down hill for awhile. I've felt like my last breath is only half a breath away. Sadly, each day is worse than the last, yet I'm still here. I don't want to be.

I went to see a new doctor today, a guy who ranks in the top 500 in the state. He says he can help me. I didn't say anything. He told me I need to do physical therapy. He said you need to lose 130 pounds. I laughed out loud, apologized then said, please, go on. He said I want you to work with our nutritionist and to join a gym. He said, it'll only cost you $10 a month.

It's just ten dollars.

Rent went up by $10.00
Getting to and from Dr. D's office is $10 x 2
Medication co-pays, almost $10
Tidy Cat $13.00
Cat food $8
Rent $515
Total monthly income $740.

I said, it's not just $10.00 when the number you're subtracting it from is low. He suggested I borrow. I don't borrow. He said, you have to be able to get $10 from somewhere. By that time I was irritated. I said, you feel so confident I can get it, would you like to pay it!? It is just $10.00. He walked out of the room. I thought, crap Faith! Crap!

He came back in and handed me $60 cash. I broke into tears! He arranged the cab situation so I can show up to physical therapy. I got in the car and came home.

Sixty percent of me says this surgeon will be like every other doctor I've seen. About 5 years ago I was told that "people like me" only have a 30% change of successful treatment because the doctor doesn’t know if it's an emotional issue or a physical one. That leaves ten percent available with which to fight this on-going battle. Ten percent.

You know, I live a very simple life, one that is able to make ends meet on $740 a month. Most of my needs, until recently, have been simple. I don't want for anything. I know what it means to be content, to be thankful that I have enough. And yeah, I understand I am considered destitute, but I don't agree. I do not agree.

What I lack is good health. My second greatest deficiency is will. I just want to stop.

Good night,

Faith

 

One thought on “Sixty. Thirty. Ten.

  1. I'm unsure how to react to the doctor who says he can help. Part of me wants to tell you to have faith he can help, to believe, yet that seems irresponsible to say given what I'm aware of through following your blog for years. Yet to say don't believe him doesn't feel right either because hope is a powerful thing and there are special doctors in the world. So I will say this: I hope you get something positive from him.

    On another note: your cookies should arrive today.

    Reply

No need to feel nervous, comment if you'd like.