There's No Place Like Home

This is, without a doubt, the last thing I could imagine doing.

But yet, here I am, finding myself humbled, ashamed and admitting defeat.

Everybody has a story. This is mine. We all have that one chapter we don't

read out loud, but we are only as sick as our secrets. It's time to come

clean with my life-shattering truth.

My husband died of Stage IV Pancreatic Cancer on January 21, 2023.

To say that my heart is broken is an understatement. It is decimated.

On January 24, 2023, I found out that my income had been cut in less than half.

On January 26, 2023, I found out that I had sixty days to vacate my home of the last twenty-one years.

My husband was diagnosed in May 2022. In July he had what is known as the Whipple Surgery. It was barbaric.

Google it if you are not squeamish. He came home with a feeding tube, drain tubes and a twelve-inch scar with about thirty staples.

After a grueling eight-week recovery, he received seven rounds of a very lethal cocktail of chemo. He was scheduled for twelve sessions,

but he died before he could get the eighth round. He battled long and hard for nine months.

He was seventy- two when he died. I am sixty- seven. We were married for twenty-one wonderful years.

We began having financial problems two years ago. Now that situation has become dire.

In addition to a mountain of medical bills, I am four months behind in the rent, as well utilities, car insurance, you name it.

My car registration has gone unpaid since last July. The list is long and getting longer by the day.

My only source of income is my $800.00 Social Security check.

I am an open book. Feel free to ask any questions you may have.

I am willing to provide my phone number to you if it will help ease any doubts you may have about donating.

I understand if you are unable to donate, however, if you could post this on your social media pages, it would be a tremendous help.

There is nothing so strong or safe in an emergency of life as the simple truth. Charles Dickens