I am trying to recover from breast cancer and all the terrifying things that go along with it. The long journey through surgery, chemotherapy and radiation is so long, much longer than most people are aware of. It is by far the hardest thing I have ever done. You are never the same again, and it is so hard to explain, but I will try.

Most people know that there is a place that you can go, when times are really tough. That place deep inside where you must dredge up the inner strength you need, whether for a a physical or mental task that seems immense. We all know it is there. Well, I went to mine during this cancer treatment and was frightened to my core to see that it was not infinite. I saw that there could easily be a day when there was no inner strength to draw from.

Everyone has a different journey, of course, as every body is different. The Cancer Agency people will tell you this. I am left with permanently damaged nerves in my feet, an arm with collapsed veins that makes me look like a druggie, and of course one severely damaged breast.

Don't get me wrong. I am grateful that I live in Canada and that all that fourteen month long treatment is free from our wonderful health care system.

The problem is that I missed a lot of work. One would, if you had surgery (six weeks off), chemotherapy over several months, and then radiation every day for a month. I have a good job. My bosses were very understanding. But I have no insurance, and the most that could be offered by my union was two weeks wages. The Government of Canada benefits were medical EI. This paid a fraction of my wage, and is only good for fifteen weeks in any case, so I tried to work when I felt well enough. So I lived on my credit, and tried to work through all the treatments.

I am behind on my property taxes because of this. It is so embarrassing. I have never asked for help, but am desperate not to lose my house. My house is not fancy, but it is my refuge and "healing place". It has a nice view, and I spent months on the couch just looking out the window. My dogs love it. As I am adopted, I have no family to help. I am pretty sure I got cancer from the stress of looking after my adoptive father for seven years while he suffered the heartbreak of Alzheimers (another horrible journey in it's own right).

The bank won't help me, and my credit card is at it's limit. I cannot sleep, and worry over debt I know will make me ill again. I have turned the heat off, sold the car and bought a beater to go to work in, take no holidays, had a garage sale. If I could only pay off the taxes and the credit card, I could sleep and be healed enough to help others. It is hard being alone.

My hair in the photo is a wig, and I was totally bald. Mouse (white poodle) lost her puppyhood career to staying in bed with me.