I’ve been coming to this decision for quite some time…

I’ve been coming to this decision for quite some time…

I’ve resigned myself to the fact that my health is what will ultimately decide my timeline.

By that I mean given the lack of support to get to and from appointments mean I don’t have any other choice. My health will get worse. I’ll eventually become wheelchair bound or some other sort of mobility issue is only a matter of time. I can last on home delivery for awhile but then the next hurdle will be my lack of being able to drive, go up and down my front steps, unable to go up and down stairs to the basement to do laundry and the list goes on and on…

This isn’t a defeatist attitude it’s just plain honesty with myself, what I’m capable of and what I’m not, there’s no changing that. I can’t drive 50 miles in each direction for a Dr. appointment in Boston and then spend the next 3-5 days recovering because my body is rebelling in pain, soreness and lack of movement.

No one wants to listen to me. No one wants to even offer a little word of encouragement. Instead, everyone seems to think their level of ‘assistance’ in your journey is to throw multiple phone numbers at you hope some ‘other’ agency can help you. Because…”That’s not something I would know about…” is everywhere you turn.

It’s so hard to bite my tongue and honestly, I’m not good at it in the least. My feelings and emotions are always always right at the surface, it’s who I am.

Today a “Social Worker” pretty much inferred, although not directly, that my situation is my fault because I live so far from Boston. Really? A neighbor just two streets over gets cab rides from here to Boston and back all the time but I’m somehow not on the same level of need? According to who? Medicare says appointments for a medical diagnosis are covered yet no one will honor those guidelines. Their response when pressed? “You can always find another Dr.”

So that’s why I can say with confidence the only way I’m going to get medical care is when my body collapses and I enter the ER feet first. It’s true and that’s that…

My father’s decline was as if I was watching my own health future. Five as in F I V E family members on my father’s side have either already died from colon cancer or are actively fighting it now. But somehow explaining to my PCP “Hey Doc, my last GI said I’m due for a colonoscopy this March and I need help with transportation.” his only reply was “I don’t approve transportation for my patients, that’s ludicrous.”

Today’s healthcare – Even when you do have Medicare and the most expensive Blue Cross supplemental plan, don’t expect anyone to offer you any form of assistance.

On the plus side Spring is coming and if this is where I meet my end, at least it’s a beautiful place to have accidently landed at this point in my life.

I’m not trying to be dark. I’m trying to be realistic given that I’m a ‘Party of One’ in life. There won’t be any long lost cousins, aunts, uncles or anyone else to help. There aren’t any friends, most still live in Boston and seem to think the phone is a foreign object for some reason. And I don’t know any neighbors in a town I literally just picked off of a zillow map that had a house I could afford.

I mean what were the other options? I could have gone the full section 8 please pay for everything will I sell all my assets…to what end? So that I’d be taking more gov resources rather than less? I decided to keep my own roof over my head, pay property & excuse taxes, water, sewer, trash, flood insurance, home insurance, care insurance, part D insurance, dental insurance, medication costs…last on the list? Food.

I did my part by not making myself a burden on a public system that doesn’t need it and instead of being supported in that choice I’m stuck in a medical gray area where you qualify for nothing.

I tried finding others in the survivor community online with mixed results. While I still want to find others that I can identify with, I don’t know that Twitter is the best tool for that scenario. Reliving trauma every day is exhausting and counter productive and that’s what Twitter does to this particular scenario.

Sure you want to support others and of course you want to listen just as you’d want to be listened to in times of need. I guess my position is that I really don’t need to see it in my feed in a very prominent and pretty constant stream. That may seem like I don’t care and that’s not it. It’s more from a self preservation perspective rather than place of judgement. We’re all valid and we’re all at various places in our recovery path.


Who knows what tomorrow will bring and at this point I can’t waste mental energy worrying about the what ifs or when will they call me’s anymore. It’s clear that unless you’re 65 and older on Medicare you’re basically on your own and it’s not a very comfortable place to be at all.

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