Lost in the Welfare System
That county in Wisconsin saved my life. The twins weren't babies anymore and I had lived 5 years like this. They were starting kindergarten this year. They had had birthdays and Christmas without grandparents or their father. I was getting tired of doing it alone. I had one boyfriend but he turned out to be a bigger loser than the twin's father is. I had no respect for men. I had no respect for anyone, especially for myself. I was tired of being poor and drunk. Now I was just poor. It was one helluva way to live but at least I was alive and I still had my babies. I found that despite my low-self esteem there were good people out there who gave a damn about my babies and me. I knew their compassion was really for the twins so I used them as much as I could to get what I needed. I made sure every community church around town knew who I was and my pity potty story that I had become quite good in telling.
The scary thing about it all was that it was the truth right down to the black eyes. Christmas time would roll around and it was so lonely but I found organizations that cared and made sure that the twin's Christmas was not bad. I was overwhelmed by the generosity of strangers. I always had what I needed for them and they never knew about my other life.
I came to California for several reasons. But one reason was sure not the welfare system. I was the minority, a white woman with two small babies. I had heard that UCSF had the best transplant hospital in the world. I needed to be somewhere where I knew I would get the best medical care available to me. As a rich little girl that was one thing I would not give up, my medical care. I gave that up once before and now my kidney was in serious jeopardy. I would fight tooth and nail for the best doctors, despite my family circumstances. The transplant staff didn't like the idea that support for me was nominal but I down
Latest Articles