Empty Promises, Shattered Dreams
For 36 years, I have taken care of others. At the age of nine I was cooling, cleaning and doing laundry for a family of five. I remember Grandmaw standing me on a milk crate to teach me how to cook and wash dishes. She even stood me up there to watch how she used her old wringer-washer. Even though most tasks were heaped on my by my mother and step-father, it wasn’t like work when Grandmaw was by my side. I remember the day she lowered her ironing board to teach me how to iron. I would dream, even at the tender age of nine, of one day having my own family. I wanted lots of children, at least enough to field my own softball team. I didn’t just dream of babies in my arms, but also of being pregnant and giving birth.
The beginning of September 2008, I set an appointment with my neuro-otologist to have grommets inserted into both of my ears for the purpose of using the Minette Device. The device would cost me $3500 out of pocket. At the time this wasn’t a real major issue as I had some money in the bank and could cover it. However, two weeks after setting the appointment, I was told that ten of the twelve employees at work (including me) would be losing their jobs as of October 31, 2008. I was devastated and and contemplated not having the procedure. Friends I discussed this with urged me to go forward with it and if I ran into financial difficulty due to all of it, they would be there for me.
I have always been taught that if you treat others with respect and in a dignified manner then it will be returned to you. In other words, “You reap what you sow”.I have always done my best to treat others respectfully. Even those who have done me ill I treat at least cordially. After all we are all human beings and must get on together to survive on this planet.
Friday, I went for my three month check-up with my Otologist. He came in with his nurse and nurse practitioner and asked how I was doing. After a bit of banter I told him that I am still looking for a one-way ticket to Iraq. a little more banter and he realized I wasn’t joking when I asked him to schedule my autopsy I have been requesting. He preformed the exam and then I stood there and proceeded to throw a bit of a tantrum.
I know what you are thinking, but put away your visions of a two-year-old pitching a fit. I don’t scream, yell or stamp my feet (I’d fall down if I tried). In fact, the worst I have done in recent history was call the workers at Hardee’s a bunch of plebeians. I went on to say, through a veil of tears, that I am angry, bitter and just plain unhappy. The trio only watched, listened and tried to answer my questions. My doctor felt this long over due as well as educational for his green nurse practitioner.
This past weekend I updated my computerized Medial Alert Card (ICE). While I did this I was prompted to add my Living Will and pulled it up as well as a form to complete my Last Will and Testament. I went back through the pages of my life as I completed these forms. I remembered the promises of others along with the promises I made to myself. It seems all those promises were empty. I would like to think that those who made those promises to me made them in good conscience. However, from here, looking back they are empty and without the prospect of ever being filled.
I had dreams for my life. I wanted to be a wife, mother and ultimately a grandmother. It was my deepest desire to pass on to my children and grandchildren all I learned from my grandparents. But in one god-forsaken diagnosis all my dreams were shattered and fell to the ground around my feet. There is no shoulder for me to cry on. No arm for me to hold to steady my balance. I am angry that there is a disease that has no known cause, no known cure and not very much research being done to rectify this. this leaves me unhappy and alone. The loneliness has bred bitterness. If only the promises had not been empty perhaps some dreams would not have shattered.

