Last night I had dinner with two fellow cancer kids and one person who has a chronic life-threatening illness.
The relief I feel in these situations is enormous – I never censor my conversation, but it can be tiresome to deal with the emotional reactions of healthy people when the macabre and hilarious anecdotes slip out.
Tomorrow is the big appointment with the Breast Clinic and I am reacting in a predictable way: bickering with a friend over whether or not I need an escort. I say no but the consensus amongst those who know me in real life is that I may well bolt rather than attend.
Whatever!
On a related topic, I’ve been obsessively watching the economic news and have developed an urgent desire to move to Ireland or Luxembourg or one of the countries making sensible efforts to guarantee financial institutions.
This follows my instinct over the last few years to cancel all of my credit cards, pay off the student loans, close my bank accounts, and take up residence in a country with socialized medicine.
I spend every cent I earn immediately, or give it away.
I have no assets, no pension, I own precisely nothing of value – for purely pragmatic reasons.
I remember the brutal experience of selling off the family homestead to pay for grandpa to enter a nursing home. I remember my great-grandma living in a shoddy metal trailer at age 99 because anything nicer would mean losing her government aid, after a lifetime of hard work and decency.
I know exactly what my childhood illness cost, even with insurance, and I was mortified to watch my parents lose everything as they worked double and triple time to pay my medical bills.
If I get sick again (and the news might arrive as early as 10am tomorrow) I would rather be proactively indigent than watch my family spiral into bankruptcy to care for me as I die.
Eminently sensible, yes, but also tremendously frightening. What a waste of resources – I would be a diligent earner and saver if only I felt safe.