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Tag: sadness

One Last Time …

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So, in between the last few hours of my last update, I think my family has reached an all time low. While my mom is suffering the most right, as the inflammation in her eye has made it so bad she can do nothing but sit, all day, with her eyes closed … we are all in one of the worst depression we’ve ever been in as a family.
I do not think I have heard the five words out of my sisters mouths in …days. Days and days. Can I let you guys in on a little secret? Just a little fun fact about me?
I am putting my brave face on. Trying to fight the struggles with a smile and a solution. I end up crying in the loo at least five times a day, but I am the only one in this house trying to pull the situation together. I do this so gladly. I was suicidal at fifteen, with the worst depression I have faced in nearly twenty one years of life. I got out of it. But I am so scared that I am going to start thinking like that again, when I am needed more than ever.
And this is not something my family can help me out of now.
This time, I have to help them.
To tell you the god honest truth, I am so shit scared, because I have nothing to offer them except all the love and dedication I can muster in my being. Living an odd life, school, college, degrees, “legitimate careers,” I did not find this in the ways everyone else did. I may not be stupid, but to the world … I have nothing to offer. I am logistically unemployable.
And believe me, I have tried looking. I have written to people. I have had the rudest things said to me when trying to explain my situation and find out if anyone in my field of unregistered capabilities would give me a chance.
And they will not.
So, here I am, just … keeping it together and trying to keep my family together and out of that void of that swallowed me whole for more than a year of my life …
And all I have right now, is #ForTheLoveofLove and this fundraiser to provide for my family.
The hospitals and doctors are beginning to bay for remunerative blood; they want their money, that we don’t have and that I am trying to make, taking over my mom’s job which is yielding us nothing whatsoever.
So, I think this is going to be my final appeal.
On the 28th, my mom is going back to the hospital for another eye exam and that’s another 2,000+ medical bill, but I will find a way to take care of that. It is hopefully at that exam that we’ll get a clearer understanding of her medical state and what can be done to save some vision in either eye, if that is at all possible.
There is about $800 left to go in this fundraiser, and that will be just enough in our currency to clear the medical debt and afford living expenses for a month, while I continue doing my mom’s job, looking for one of my own and doing all that I can on the online front.
$800 dollars.
I know it is a lot.
I know that what I am asking is impossible, and I will die with an unspeakable burden of guilt for having to turn to the far reaches of the internet for help.
But if by Monday we can make it, I will stop this fundraiser. The never ending stream of it, the pleading. I will pull my act together and I will do more to find work here closer to home, if I can and I’m sure I will somewhere.
Just this last stretch … one last time.
One last time that I am begging you to share this as much as you can, so I can just finish this and offer this little solace to my mother. She’s the matriarch. She wants to provide for us. She wants to be the powerhouse she always is, and she’s trying and she’s held back, and it’s destroying her.
I want to ease this burden for her. Because when she smiles, we all smile. When she feels strong, it’s easy to follow her lead.
And of late that’s become my duty, to be the strong one, to be the fighter, and in my heart, I’m failing … but I promise you, whatever life gives and takes away, I am devoted to my family’s health and happiness.
And one day, I want this to be a memory for them. A memory of dark days in our lives, but from which we’d drawn strength we as a family didn’t even know we had. I want this to happen from a beautiful, clear, quiet beach somewhere safe and peaceful.
I will give them that.
If you can give as many shares as possible, as much help as you can, in any way it comes.
And when it ends, it will be a brighter day. A stronger day.
My sisters will laugh and smile and share their weird, freaky ass jokes that I don’t get. My mom will tease us, and talk about the future with all of us in it, safe, sound, sane and at peace …
And this day could be here so soon.
If for this one last time, I can be so presumptuous to ask for more help than what was so amazingly and kindly given to us in these last few weeks.
And here, my little novel of a thing ends. I am bawling and I cannot see what I’m typing, so please forgive the typos.
In the meantime, I love you guys so much.
I would be lost without you.
All my love,
Lara

 

To donate to the fundraiser, it’s all in this link;

To write for #ForTheLoveofLove, here are the full submission guidelines.  Submissions close on the 28th Feb.

#S4S-6: Hysterectomy by Caitlin Keeton

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Hysterectomy

hospital-834157_640

Where once my sons had sucked their thumbs
Welcome in my red-carpet embrace,
Home, free from harm,
Waiting in the wings was an uninvited guest
A pest, who held to ransom my nest,
Determined
Cuckoo
Excreting
Egg-sized
Fibroids,
Leaving stones where once my sons slept.
Swelling my belly to barrel
Squeezing my bladder and bowel
Blood floods; clot torrents torment
Red carpet is mangled each month
Pains in my pubis, my pelvis.
It’s Hell, this.

My womb turned tomb.

‘Sorry’
His hand nudges mine as
The consent form is signed.
Later his scalpel will
Cut a
Slot
Like a
Letter box,
Low down.
A makeshift emergency exit,
From whence he’ll pull my uterus, my ovaries;
the infestation of fibroids.
Red carpet will be rolled,
Dull and void.

I go for my operation at four,
‘No tampons or pads to be worn.’
And thus, unhindered, the final period
Pours.

I wake
Drug headed,
A squashed fly
In a web of wires.

Weak fingers, heavy with instruments
Search for my wound,
Underneath
the sheet
Underneath
the shroud gown
Underneath
the dressing
I count fifteen clasps or teeth
Shaped to smile.
I touch each clip like xylophone key
Imagine its song pitch perfect above the
Barren bustle and blips:

‘Hys-ter-ec-to-my
Say-good-bye-to-the
Pain-and-mis-ery.’

I sleep in starts and fits.

‘You’re all sorted now’
Somebody breathes on my face.
My womb’s all gone
Without a trace.
Just an empty
Space.
My cracked lips part.
‘That’s good’ I whisper.

Touching my new metalwork,
I doze once more.

Hang on.
I freeze.
I croak a sob.
My sons will never have a sister.

Stretching the wires,
I struggle to rise.

My mouth shaped wound tries to scream
But like a re-used envelope
With nothing much inside
It is silenced by staples.

Twitter: @CaitlinKeeton

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