I Cry for the Little Girl

About the Book

After several years and several different doctors' opinions; you are finally diagnosed with final stage cancer. And they tell you on your 50th birthday. Wouldn't you want to examine your past to see if something you lived through may have contributed to it?

Then when you begin to relive your past on paper, you realize you had nowhere near a normal life. Starting with your paternal grandparents' chance meeting, the family tree takes many twists and turns that lead to a life of continued stress. Your oncologist tells you that stress has broken down your immune system and allowed a virus to invade your body.

Here is my life story. In it you will read about constant moving, due to the fact that your father was a radical fundamentalist and never progressed to anything but small town churches.

About the Author

I was told on my 50th birthday that I have cancer. Before that it was just a dull possibility and probable mistake. You see; I had been to at least seven doctors in the same amount of years. "Your blood tests came back okay; your blood pressure is fine; your urine is fine; your pap smear is okay, and your mammogram shows some fibrous tissues, which you already know about. You are just fine, " said doctor #1-6. "Why does my stomach and uterus hurt so much then?" I said. "Why am I so tired and how come when I get a cold or anything, it lasts three months?" "How old are you?" asked Dr. 1992. "Forty Two" I said, knowing full well he had my file right under his nose. "You may be in the peri-menopausal stage of your life. Take an anti-inflammatory medication from over the counter, I'm sure you'll get relief from that." "Thank you doctor, " I said, as I left his office; thanks for nothing. The drive home from office visit #1 through office visit #6 was always the same. Anger ruled the gas pedal as tears streamed down my face. I had to get home and make supper. By the time I was doing the dishes, my life had moved forward into another time. As soon as I stopped menstruating, I would be a pain free, middle-aged woman with a mustache. That was to be my comfort. But I knew there was something else that was very wrong. No one took me seriously until...