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11:19 p.m. - Saturday, Nov. 23, 2002
Ms Leslie is the strong one for once
I can�t go to Baton Rouge for T�Day.

I went over to see Deana today. She�s a local transsexual who at one time seemed to be on a schedule very close to mine. She had a good job, as an auto mechanic, of all things. She had the money. She had the letters from the two therapists which (ahem) I recommended, and she was taking female hormones prescribed by her doctor. Then last July, her hip gave out and she soon found herself undergoing surgery to try to repair a hip joint damaged by a degenerative bone disease.

As I carried on with my own plans, she lost her job when she couldn�t do the required work. With the loss of her job came the loss of her insurance and the necessity of using the money she had saved for her sex reassignment surgery for living expenses instead.

I didn�t realize until today how much she has looked up to me. I didn�t even bother to call her once I returned home. See, that�s my problem: I can�t imagine anyone caring for me enough to remember my name, much less look up to me or want to see me. But she did. She�s been waiting and waiting, thinking that I needed some time alone to heal before she called me. So I went over to her little old trailer house today, just to visit and say �hey�

Since I last saw her, the original surgery has failed to solve her problem. She�s facing a procedure to replace the ball joint at the top of her thigh bone. More surgery without the means to pay. With no disability and with her unemployment insurance uncertain, since she�s unable to work, she�s been struggling to keep her lights on. She�s in survivor mode and it�s getting harder and harder for her to hang on. Even worse than that, though, is the fact that she�s left alone in her troubles. She has friends, yes, but they�re what I would call �surface friends�. They�re friends only so long as it�s convenient. That�s fine. Some of them have helped her along pretty well. But when T�Day comes, everyone has made their plans to be with their familes and left Deana to observe the day alone.

I don�t think they know that this Thanksgiving will also be the first anniversary of her father�s death.

So when I asked her what she would be doing for T�Day, she cried as she told me she will be alone in her half-remodeled trailer on that day. Who does that remind you of? There�s a difference though. It�s one thing, you know, to choose to isolate yourself and shut out the planet earth: To sit alone in a dim room feeling sorry for yourself and wishing it was a different time. That�s one thing, but it�s entirely a different thing to be abandoned by everyone you know and spend the day alone wishing you could be with someone. That really sucks and I guess I�m not going to let it happen. I don�t have a choice, really. I can�t hold her and let her cry all over me for an hour and then go skipping happily off to my own life. If I go to Baton Rouge now, I�m sure to have an awful time. Every smile will remind me of the heartsick, scared and drowning Deana.

I�m cancelling my plans for Baton Rouge. I�ll pick Deana up early Thanksgiving morning and give her some flowers to put on her daddy�s grave. I�ll drive her to see him and wait at a little distance while she goes to put the flowers on his grave. When it�s done, I guess I�ll take her to one of the casinos for dinner. I don�t think I�m up to making a feast for two in my kitchen. We�ll see�. Maybe just a turkey, so I can give her something left over for sandwiches and soup for a few days.

It�s staggering. Every friend I have faces serious financial problems. I honestly don�t know what some of them will do. My finances are OK. I�m not rich but I don�t have many expenses either. I spend very little so need very little. When I look at my friends, I feel like writing checks. I feel guilty for not doing it. It�s just that I�m only now beginning to learn to take care of my own needs first. If I give away all my money, as I�ve done all through my life, then I�m the one with a financial problem� and my money isn�t enough to solve everyone�s problem either. So nothing is gained. On the other hand, I can help in other ways. Helping Deana is one of them. And let�s face it: Helping her is helping me too. I get to be the strong one for awhile. That�s not a bad feeling. I can�t solve her problems. I can�t solve anyone�s problems. But I can be a friend and just be with her once in a while so she doesn�t have to feel so alone.

That�s what survivors do.

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