Ms. Janice

Last night I found out about a really sad situation.  One of the teachers at Oz, Ms. Janice (they call everyone "Ms. something" there, just like school, which is hard for this casual-Fridays girl to get used to) apparently has lung cancer.  I hear about people getting cancer all the time, and it always makes me kind of sick to my stomach, because I know firsthand what cancer is like. My mom had it twice while I was growing up.  I remember distinctly going to visit her in Intensive Care.  We had to put special gowns on and cover up our shoes and go through two air locks to a secluded room to see her. We brought her clean underwear and a toothbrush in a Ziploc bag, and we couldn't touch her because we might make her sicker. It was horrible.

If you survive cancer, then you have ridiculous insurance premiums for the rest of your life.  It's also extremely hard to get new insurance.  Poor Ms. Janice not only doesn't have ANY insurance, she also doesn't have any income anymore. She used up all her sick and vacation days at the daycare while she was in the hospital.  I can't imagine the bind this woman is in. 

We took a check down to Oz this morning and dropped it off, along with the little gifties I bought the little angel's main teachers.  After donating to the other usual charities and work, it was more than we intended to give this season, but it also was a drop in the bucket for Ms. Janice, I'm sure.  It made me feel helpless all over again to realize there is so little I could do.  Of course this is not the only Ms. Janice out there. There are tons of them.

It also made me realize that I am much more likely to open my wallet when I know who is getting the money and what they need it for. I think charities in general would do better if they were more one-to-one, which I also realize is next to impossible to do.  My parents used to have a fund of money they used each year to anonymously help someone they knew who needed it. I remember them paying off my high-school boyfriend's parents' account at the drugstore (yes, you could run a tab at my hometown drugstore).  It felt pretty good to know we'd helped Ms. Janice a little bit, but then it felt bad to know we couldn't fix it.  I'm of two minds.