In the past month, I've learned that two of my friends with aggressive cancer are not getting better (in part because insurance has decided they no longer want to pay for the chemo the DOCTOR has prescribed. As if an insurance person would have the slightest IDEA having never met either person.)
Then I learned that not one, not two, but three people developed cancer. (Since the first writing, one more friend has developed cancer.) One was misdiagnosed. One was lucky enough to find it themselves. The newest find, I'm unclear on. The third one -- that one I don't know but it breaks my heart and my I've got a big heart.
There's not a thing I can do financially to help these awesome people. In the case of my friend whose insurance-doesn't-count company failed her, I'd have to raise $25K-$30K a MONTH. As many contacts as I have, I can't come up with that for her, and GoFundMe just doesn't work for that, either.
For these people I love, The Cliff of Fear can be freaking terrifying. I wouldn't want to even look over the edge. I just hope that everyone involved can hold tight to the hope that it's truly a little jump .... a baby jump. I tiny, tiny, barely there jump. Dust off, move on.
I wish I knew what to do. I pray, I cry, I pray. Two people are nearby. Three are across the country. One is about a seven hour drive away. It's times like this I wish I had a little tiny pod trailer I could hook to the Bug or the van and just go do a round-the-nation visit. Knock on the door, give a gentle hug, take them to chemo if needed, cook something they can stomach, take them shopping for what they would love but wouldn't buy for themselves. Rick and I have been checking out trailers, kind of like these:
I quit like this, but in pink, Or purple.
It's so awesome how these little trailers use every single bit of space.
Is this selfish? But is it OK to be selfish because it would make me feel good, too? Because I would love to do all that, travel, sit in traffic jams, pouring rain or beautiful sunny days, trying to deliver a little happiness..... but I'd like to think my friends would like the visit, too. Instead of exhaust fumes, I'd love to spread cotton-candy smelling puffs of pink. But I'm sure there's an ordinance about that.
The only thing that's stopping me is Zack. I could never spend that much time away from Zack, and Rick could never take that much time away from work. I'd thought about taking Zack with me, have an XBox-less summer, but.... he's fourteen. Maybe before college, when we can just visit spots on the map. I think this should me a Lori-only trip.
It's a dream. I'll put it into my Bucket List but Lord, please let all my friends who are hurting get better before I can put the pedal to the metal.