Going home tomorrow - great and not-so-great
Christie’s counts are up and she’s doing remarkably great, so we’ll be able to take her home tomorrow! YAY!
I’m tired yet riddled with anxiety because in the midst of getting good news that Christie’s going to be able to go home, C.R.’s “father” called and wanted t0 know exactly what time we would be home. He has called twice today to find out if we know, but there’s no obvious reason that he would need to know. We know the man and suspect he has something heinous up his sleeve. Perhaps the delivery of an ultimatum or an eviction notice… perhaps to demand even more of the one thing he worships and cares about more than anything in the world - M O N E Y. If he and his nasty wife would just back off, life would be better and we wouldn’t be constantly worried about losing a place to live.
Sure, it’s true we owe them a lot of back rent. We lost a successful small business and had matters complicated by Christie’s diagnosis. They have threatened several times to evict us and even served us with formal notice twice. So many people have expressed disgust that “family” would do this, but C.R.’s father and his wife aren’t exactly family to us.
They think we’re scum, they have called us names, they hurl accusations that we’re partying and living in high style in their crappy, ghetto house with windows that they painted shut… with a front door that has a huge hole in it that we had to cover with duct tape… with a plumbing leak that is ruining the house and they won’t have repaired because we owe them back rent.
We have next to nothing, not even a TV that really works right, not even a microwave oven, not even decent furniture. Christie’s mattress has a spring popping through the fabric, mine and C.R.’s is literally falling apart. We can’t even afford clothing or shoes. Oh, yeah, we’re living the high life alright. While we struggle to cover the most basic of expenses and feed our family, we’re living the high life. While we battle with pain every single day of our lives because we have no medical care, we’re living the high life. While we live without hot water because C.R.’s father is too cheap and too petty to replace the hot water heater that broke in August of 2008, we’re living the high life.
And yes, dammit, it IS all true. If one more person e-mails me and accuses me of making things up, of being “horrible,” of fabricating this entire, heart-wrenching experience, I swear I’m going to scream. You who feel you need to attack me and accuse me of lies, what good does it do you? Why go out of your way to jab at me? What payoff does it get you? It just upsets me and by the gods, I don’t need any more upset in my life!
So while I am excited to be able to take Christie home, finally, and I am eternally grateful that she made it through this horrific crisis, I am almost afraid to go home because I don’t know what will happen next…
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