So of course it’s done deliberately, the guilt-trip…
They pair the sinner anorexics with the women dying of breast cancer. They do this every time.
Next to me, dying in her bed, was a lovely lady dying of breast cancer. Sweet and tender, and yes, dying. Surrounded by loving family of course, and flowers and cards galore. Every five minutes the nurses came in and ever so gently, asked, “How is your pain? How can we make it easier for you?”
The sweet and wonderful lady almost always answered some very high number such as 8 or 9 as her pain level on a scale of 1 t0 10. The nurses offered her pain meds and comforted her. “Is it better? How can we help?”
Then they’d strut past my bed, giving me the coldest, rudest look imaginable. Nasty remarks to back it all up.
I had no visitors. No cards. I was repeatedly told I they didn’t want me there, and no one wanted me at home, or anywhere.
Accusations. Threats. Told repeatedly what a sinner I was. That I was “no good.” “Undeserving.” “Ungrateful.”
So I asked to leave. I told them, “Since you clearly dislike me and don’t want me here, why should I be here? You’re treating me badly. This is abuse.”
“We don’t want you escaping this place,” they respond. “And we don’t want you yapping to anyone. We don’t want you exposing us.”
And so, the abuse worsened.
I haven’t been the same since.
What happened to that breast cancer lady? I guess she’s in Heaven. Heaven for folks that die tragically of breast cancer and are remembered and loved forever as Good and Very Well-Loved People. Me, I’ll die remembered as the Girl that Starved Herself Because Obviously No One Gave a Shit. They sure drove that one home. Hospitals have a way of doing that.
See ya later.