I haven’t been writing  because I don’t have words.

It has officially been a year since they took my gall bladder, my colon. My uterus. And my ovaries. And my cervix.

It has officially been a year since I walked into a specialist, and walked out having to tell everyone I love that I have Lupus.

It has been a year of gaining pound after pound after pound as steroids saved my organs and robbed me of my confidence.

It has been the worst year of my life, as I continue to make life harder for everyone. The never ending roller coaster that throws us high in celebration and then tosses us down with news of a stroke, then ANOTHER mini stroke and then up again with treatment and down again with pain.

God…the pain. The never ending, non stop pain that can’t even let me catch my breath because it’s too cruel.

I’m not going to pretend as if I had forgotten this anniversary. The one just after the other anniversary that should always be happy, not just an exercise in straining our ears to see if we can hear the clock tick down my life.

This year has taught me many lessons about the people I love. From the way my Father’s face fell as we left the specialist and I said the word, to the strain I see as my son rubs his forehead when he watches me take my medication, to the determination of my daughter as she plays doctor and saves every stuffed animal in the playroom, to the unannounced visits by my brother carrying food, hoping to get me to eat a bite,  to my husband…my constantly worrying husband…who cleans and cooks and shops and moves and moves for fear if he stops moving, so will I, to my Mother whose voice is always near a panic as I try to explain how yet another treatment has not worked. They have endured so much with such strength.

I write this in the hope that next year this anniversary won’t sound so grim. That every year when I write about this date it isn’t as dire, or depressing.

I am putting this first year after having been diagnosed with Lupus in the books, hoping we never endure something like this again, and trying to find the strength to push forward with my body and my words.

I’ve always talked about how politics are personal. Always.

The passion. The fervor. It comes from deep within. Decisions there affect my daily life. Policy, legislation, Acts, Bills…they roll directly to my front door. To me. To my children, my family, our lives.

I have always taken issue with many conservative ideals. When I was younger it was strictly social issues. As I matured I found myself having trouble with conservative economic policy as well. I always found it to be the economics of the wealthy, or those who wish to be wealthy. How does the joke go? Something about being young and a Democrat and when you become older, and richer, a Republican.

However lately I find myself angry when a seemingly new line of rhetoric, spurred by Tea Party types, hits the airwaves, and print, and finds its way to the lips of friends and family members. It goes something like…

I work hard for my money, and I’m not giving any of it to those just living off the system. I’m not giving anything to those lazy bums. They didn’t plan. They don’t want to work. They just take their government checks and get fat or get high or get drunk.

It’s then summed up with some Ayn Rand type quote about the survival of the fittest and how those who work the hardest deserve the riches.

Yeah, now it’s even more personal.

For those who are unaware, I’m on disability. A system I paid into when I was able and working. This means that every two weeks the state of California sends me  check and this check pays some of our bills. My husband continues to work, and the rest of the bills are eaten by his check.

Without my disability check we would not be able to pay all of our bills. This includes medical bills that have eaten up almost everything we have.

I just realized I’m one of ‘those‘ people these conservatives are talking about. I’m the lazy. I’m the unable. I’m the one who is living off of the government.

We planned as best we could for something like this. We had savings. We alway tried to live within our means. And then, as so many others, what couldn’t possibly happen to us, did.

Thousands upon thousand of dollars in tests and treatments will do that. No matter how much you try to plan. Leaving us thankful the government program was there to help in our time of need.

Let there be no misunderstanding. I WANT to work. I am anything but lazy (unless we’re talking about putting away laundry) and the last I checked my government checks weren’t being spent on booze or illegal drugs. It sure as hell pays for a lot of meds I have to take, though. The chemo shots, the iv infusions, the daily pills that are so numerous sometimes I forget if I’ve taken them.

I’m the ‘those people’ collecting that ‘hard earned money’ these conservatives were forced to turn over. They think I’m lazy. They think I don’t deserve that check, and they sure as hell think I should have been better prepared and should get my money elsewhere.

When it comes to ‘survival of the fittest’ they are fine keeping their cash and letting me die. I should be getting what I need at a church, or some private entity. Why should they have to pay for me? Why should they be forced to turn over their pennies because I got sick?

Yes. Today’s very real political debate has come knocking on my front door. I’m the ‘those people’ you keep hearing about at rallies with signs showing a lot of bald eagles and little old ladies in Old Glory sweaters. I’m the reason they seem so angry. Well, me and millions of others down on our luck.

You see…nothing bad happens to the folks at these rallies. They have, presumably, thousands of gold bars stashed away for their rainy day. They, obviously given their stance, don’t accept Social Security or Medicare/Medicaid. Their savings and self-bought health insurance will handle all their needs, even in the event of a medical emergency. Right? And of course if I ask them they ‘aren’t talking about me’ but about those ‘other people.’ ‘You know, the ones not like you.’

Yet they are like me. Just like me.

Yes, my disabled ass is clearly unconstitutional, or so I am told. Because no where, does it say, do they have to pay for us lazy sloths who are ‘abusing’ the system.

Nevermind it being a system we paid into. Facts don’t seem to matter.

Try as I may I’m having a hard time with this one. As anyone who’s been in a tough spot knows, it’s not where you want to be. And you are more than thankful for the government program there to aid you when needed.

I’m not ashamed to be collecting my check. This is exactly what a civilized society does. It provides when times are tough. It gave me a safeguard so my family wouldn’t lose everything because I got sick.

Whereas these people, these Tea Partiers and these conservatives seem to believe if I lose everything, if my family loses everything because I got sick, well…that’s just life. And survival of the fittest baby. I should rely on a church, or shelter (privately owned and operated, of course) but not the government. No…that’s not the role of their government. The one that can make sure their small business gets breaks, just not real people.

So after a night of heated debate with some of these people I ask: where has compassionate conservatism gone? What happened to this grand old party that still talks morals and family values yet preaches no help for people like me and no equality for my gay and lesbian friends? At what point did the all mighty dollar replace the All Mighty?

And when did I become lazy, not worth saving, and most certainly unfit, and therefore left behind in the grand human fight for survival?

So you’ll understand why I argue when you post your status message supporting a Republican. You will surely see why I ask why you support this or that Tea Party candidate. And you will forgive me as I question as you discuss your stance against giving any of your hard-earned money to ‘those people.’

Because those people are not faceless, nameless stereotypes pounded into your head by Fox ‘News’ or talk radio. No. It’s me. And millions of others like me. Simply paying bills, and buying medication, and undergoing treatment to survive…

…Despite you leaving us to die.