You know I am no stranger to the idea that life is hard. But then something comes along and I find myself shaking my head in frustration. My goal when my son died was to go back to work, I tried to make it happen before I sold our home, but no luck. Next my plan was to find a job after I moved, but then I was diagnosed with a recurrence of my cancer in the middle of moving. So now I have been left with a new reality, I need to apply for Social Security disabled widow’s benefits. This was not what I wanted, but if I have learned anything in life, it is that you really can’t always get what you want. So I started the process in January of this year and to say that it has been a struggle would be an understatement. I knew with the first phone call to make the interview appointment it was going to be a difficult process. The woman on the phone asked if my doctor had told me when I might die……did she seriously say that? Yes she did. There were so many things I wanted to say, but I didn’t want to affect my chances. So I came up with this response–I never asked my doctor that question….not too bad a response on the fly. Since that first call I have had my interview, had to defend my eligibility to apply, spent time trying to get info on the phone and several trips into the office. They told me that cancer cases like mine get expedited, but that has not been the case for me. As of my latest trip to the office this past Thursday, my case has not been assigned to anyone for the medical review and tomorrow it will be 5 weeks since the process started.
The additional stress of this is financial, I am running out of money. This is especially frustrating to me because I made some bad money decision by trusting the wrong people, I should have known better. But I can’t change that now. Looking forward, if a decision isn’t made soon I am going to have to sell my little condo and rent a place so that I have money to live on. The thought of moving cuts me to the core. The last move from the home where I raised my son and held his memorial service was devastating. But I had no choice and I feel like that is where I am again. I have worked to make my little condo feel like home. I have included my son here not only in photos, but he has a prominent place in the living room. I have a trunk with some of his special things in it, and everything else of his is packed in 8 big containers in my garage.
I know what I have to do, I need to stay focused and be persistent, I am. And I am normally the most optimistic person I know, but this just feels like one thing too many. I feel like I am fighting for my life and that leaves me with this question–does it really have to be this hard?