Come to I think of it, I'll watch the final Mad Men episode one more time to calm down. It was so beautiful. An amazing, spectacular, end without being sappy. They wrapped it up perfectly. Ok, that's all for now.
Peace and joy, my readers,
When You're Willing To Fake Cancer To Snag A Guy
by Lizzy Smith
May 19, 2015
When I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma (a blood cancer) and immediately left my husband, he accused me of faking the whole thing. He also went about telling his family and friends that I was making it all up. Which was quite shocking considering I gave him a copy of my diagnostic report and he saw me with a port stuck in my chest. One evening he sent me a text with wild accusations that included: "You're a thief, a liar and a drama queen. You're making up cancer!" I had heard this stuff before when I was being diagnosed, but this one was really ill-timed: I happened to be on Day 1 of a 4 day hospital stay because I was spiking a really high fever. With no immune system, if we didn't find the infection (if there was one) and treat it immediately, I would quickly die. I immediately texted him a photo of me wearing a pink beanie cap to protect my bald head, and my arm attached to an IV. It didn't matter to Rob the Great (alcoholic). I was still a liar. Clearly, he was raging drunk (again).
When he told his mother that I was lying about cancer, her response was: "I never believed she had cancer anyway. She's just made her pretty little bed and now she needs to lie in it." Rob forwarded the email to me. It was horrifying. Whatever the fuck that meant. My response to that (which I never wrote out or sent) was:
1. I'm not a liar. If you need to find one, though, look to your son who lied to me about his alcoholism and went to great lengths to hide it from me when we were dating. He frauded me into marrying him because had I known about his wild drinking binges, he wouldn't have made it past the first date and look how much better off we'd be. Honesty goes a long way and if you had encouraged your son to lead an honest life, maybe he wouldn't be the disaster he is today. And you knew about his alcoholism and watched silently as I married him. And then proceeded to have conversation after conversation with me about his problem.
2. Maybe, just maybe, if you had taken a bigger interest in your son and conducted an intervention, he would not be going around terrorizing the people around him. Maybe he'd be a better man. Granted, as an adult, he is clearly responsible for his own abusive behavior.
3. How I made my bed by getting cancer and suffering through treatments is nuts. I worked myself to the bone trying to manage a household almost with zero help from your alcoholic son, to my own detriment. I carried his enormous weight around my neck, drowning every single day while he sat his fat ass on the couch watching TV and too-high volumes or going to bed in a drunken stupor at 7PM. All while I tried to avoid his horrific, explosive tempter tantrums.
4. Who the fuck makes up a cancer diagnosis anyway?
Well, to the last point, I have found a few. No one deserves to get cancer. No one. Except maybe someone who makes it up.
Such is the story of "Betty," a single mom to a young son, who met a guy "Ben." She fell crazy in love with Ben. Ben adored the son, Betty not so much. But he continued dating her for several months until he was ready to call the whole thing off. He tried to break it to her gently. A day later, Betty called Ben in hysterics. She had just been to the doctor for a follow-up appointment and she had advanced leukemia. She had maybe ten months to live. Ben felt horrible, what would become of this fatherless boy? Betty had no contact with her son's father. Ben did what he thought was the right thing: He offered to marry Betty, become her son's legal guardian, and raise him after her death. She readily agreed.