58, Cancer Survivor, Single…And Broke-Silver Divorce Is A Bitch

Cancer treatment is over. As I look at the next stage of healing, I am sobered and feel not a small amount of fear as I face the future.

Top of the list is, surprise, surprise, is reoccurrence. Yes, I have studied the statistics. Yes, I know the flavor of breast cancer I had is highly treatable and has a favorable prognosis.

BUT. A brain on fear doesn’t give a hoot about statistics. And I am still facing 5–7 years on hormone repression therapy and the fun side effects it brings.

My approach to handling this is to get back into the gym and focus on health. It’s a bit of a tall order right now because truly, chemo and its after-effects are much worse symptom wise than the silent ticking time bomb nestled in both breasts. But forward I go, leg pain be damned. (If you read my earlier article, I mentioned waiting on a blood test to see if my electrolytes were screwed up and causing this. They were fine.)

The sobering truth settling down around my shoulders now is the economic reality check of my situation. I am 58 years old, a cancer survivor and well, broke. There is no pension. No 401K. No spousal support despite having been a homemaker and homeschooling my kids for most of my adult life. There is no house, no offshore assets or Swiss bank account, no favorite rich uncle with one foot in the grave and another on a banana peel.

I’m not sharing this to elicit pity or play the victim card. I know many share this reality, mostly woman after a silver divorce, like me. I’ve seen the statistics. I’d go off on a bunny trail right now with the gloomy numbers, but I bet you’ve either seen them or are experiencing the reality yourself.

Was I lazy and foolish? Nope. My former husband and I worked hard. We played by the rules-we are both college educated. He always held a job. I took care of kids and picked up side hustles or freelance writing here and there to supplement.

Any money we managed to save would be claimed by various emergencies-a broken-down car, a leaky roof, medical deductibles, etc. There was not a whole lot of margin.

I do not regret having stayed home with my kids. But I truly had no idea that I would pay dearly for this choice as a divorced woman nearing retirement age. Not that I plan on retiring anytime soon, mind you. But yeah, there’s this pesky cancer thing hanging over my head now and I am acutely aware of how a health crisis can completely fuck over the best of the best made plans.

When raising our kids, we thumbed our noses when people told us that being a one-income family was impossible. Look at us! We did it anyway! Victory lap!

Uh. No. We got through it. My knack for thrift and efficient homemaking was my contribution in making it happen. Too bad it didn’t count toward my social security.

I am still the queen of thriftiness, but that will only bring one so far in today’s economic conditions.

I accept full responsibility for where I am at right now. I did not know my choices would bring these travails over two decades after we made the decisions that we did.

Now, I must take a deep breath and keep moving forward.

I would like to partake in a larger conversation with others in a similar situation. What do we do? How do we navigate this? What do you do when you have a health crisis and are single?

Government isn’t going to save us-they contributed to this mess. We must save ourselves. We must return to community and realize the myth of rugged individualism doesn’t work. I don’t want to burden my kids either. They have struggles of their own.

One dream I’ve had is to form an intentional community of tiny homes. Affordable housing seems to be a great place to start. This community would be multi-generational and for people interested in knowing and helping their neighbors.

Let’s throw in some community gardens too. Mmmmmmm, nothing like sugar snap peas fresh off the vine.

And for the love of God, keep the greedy corporations out of the whole deal. They are a huge reason for this fine economic fettle.

Most of us baby boomers are in big trouble. And shaming those of us in this wicked soup isn’t helpful. (Ex, “It’s your own damn fault you’re in that situation!”) Just writing that reminds me of another couple I knew. They were both retired professionals with a nice nest egg to coast through retirement.

Then she got breast cancer. Her word of wisdom to me was, “Don’t get cancer before you’re on Medicare.” Her treatment wiped out most of their savings.

Yeah, it’s her own damn fault for getting cancer before Medicare. (Seriously using the sarcastic font here.) I count myself very lucky that my insurance has paid for most of my treatment. (Without insurance, the medication I need to take runs about $128/month with a discount card according to drugs.com but I’ve seen it cost up to $300.)

It’s time we come together and sort through this mess and come up with some compassionate solutions.

I would love to hear from you about this. Are you in a similar situation? What solutions do you envision?

I am all ears.

Thanks so much for reading. You can find me around the internet at www.theresawinn.com, on Facebook, LinkedIn and Instagram. If you’d like to support my writing in a small way, feel free to buy me a coffee.