Kristen Hands

Flowing blue streams run along flourishing green hills below the faint blue sky. I wonder what this perfect life is like. What life is like on this end of town. Like most Black families I will have to drive back to East Camden and fight to merely stay alive. Fighting to stay alive.

I recently was diagnosed with having with having cancer. At the youthful age of 67, as she smiles), I have realize just how hard life can be. I have spent the better part of my life working in factories and inhaling endless amounts of thick smoke. Maybe that is why I have cancer now. Who knows.

So I realize just how good life is for those people who don’t understand what it is like to me. To have to lock my doors behind me even at 3:00 in the afternoon. Oh, how I miss the days where I can just be. I long for those days when my children could run on the sidewalk and walk to the store to grab some candy. Where have those days gone?

Bernice, like many elderly women of this area, has felt the brutal affects of the Bush Administration. In a conversation with her, I came to know that the future isn’t so bright for me either, even as a young woman. I am lucky enough to have the time to prepare for the future, Bernice isn’t so lucky.

When my husband was living he was able to pay for our medical needs because he had, what was considered at the time, a “good job.” So his benefits covered the costs for me and the kids and we had no worries. He died about 10 years ago. I have been diagnosed with cancer just recently but I do have some money saved for any expenses my kids might have when I die. I want to be able to help them even in my death. I can’t afford the things I used to. I mean I know I’m going to die, so maybe medicine isn’t that important. There is no cure for cancer.

Bernice’s dilemma is a result of the new Medicare Prescription Drug Law that requires many elderly citizens and citizens with disabilities to have to pay for their prescription drugs out of pocket. How these persons supposed to be able to cover their drug expenses? Too old to work and too poor to afford their prescriptions.

I mean I do not know what I can do. I travel between my doctor’s office on the rich end of town and my house in this scanty neighborhood twice a week. Wishful thinking is understandable, but at this point in my life, I am way too old to make such a major change. I don’t have the money for it. Two buses and a 2 block walk later, I am able to walk into my doctor’s office out of breath but still living. For now anyway. You won’t remember my story after today. Years from now you won’t even know my name. Just know that for right now, you listening to me is a lot better than anything this government can do for me. Thank you.

The dilemma of Bernice is like that of many disenfranchised groups across the nation. Know that you can help. No effort is ever too much. I soon learned from this interaction with Bernice and other elderly persons that just saying “hi” makes all the difference. Only God knows if these women were planning on taking their own lives or worse. Say “hi!” Say how are you. Mean it.