Where’s My Lasagna?

When one is undergoing mental health treatment, it often feels as if no one cares. It is rare that one will receive a greeting card or flowers, nor a covered dish when arriving home from the hospital. In my experience, most are standoffish. Recently, I was diagnosed with cancer. When the “C” word is spoken, everyone reacts. Flowers appeared at the hospital. People brought food when I arrived home; cards were plentiful. People sent money. Doors opened...