Everyone has a story

My coworker and I started talking about medical quacks because he wanted to share his discovery of green coffee pills as a magical tool for weight loss, as promoted by Dr. Oz. He seemed shocked that I thought he was just a well-educated guy with some celebrity power who's selling stuff to make money, not make you healthy. We ended up talking about diagnoses that people find themselves with, no matter what their social or financial status, however they were schooled or raised. Like Ann Romney. With all her resources for the best treatments and preventive care, she still has MS. He shook his head, "That poor woman." Really? I guess I came off harsh, but I really feel more for the single mother working two jobs raising a daughter who has MS than someone who has the best of everything money can buy. (And yes, I know the aforementioned single mother, whose husband left shortly after the diagnosis.) Maybe I sound bitter that someone can afford more than I can. It's not that at all. I would feel less derision to Mrs. Romney if instead of saying, "Yes, it's so hard to be me, living with this disease," and instead said something along the lines of, "Yes, I have this disease and it's hard, but there are others who need much more help than I do, and here's how we start." I want everyone to see beyond themselves. Everyone has issues, has bad days, has a story to tell and lessons to teach. When we recognize that, it won't be all about ME, but about US. I'm having my doubts these days if we can do that as a group at all.

Tap tap tap

Look at that. A year has passed since I've been here. Crazy. The best thing in my life is still Jon, but things are quite a better than they were this time last year. I'm still working, which is huge at a time like this. I'm cooking more, worrying less. Filing chapter 13 was likely the best move I made last year. Now if I can just get through national elections without too many uncomfortable discussions about a couple of candidates I don't like...