Blog #12 (Question #3)

My sister-in-law Michelle lived a life afflicted with an intense phobia of being alone. She could not bear to be alone even for a moment. No one knows the origins of this fear but Michelle thought it might have developed when she was left by her mom at the hospital for a tonsillectomy. She was only 6 years old at the time. After that experience, Michelle feared being left alone. Michelle grew up, married and had 2 children. Her husband left her for another woman, leaving Michelle to live in a low income housing project in a crime ridden neighborhood where drug addicts were common place. Michelle often took in street people who were down and out to help them, and in so doing saved her from being alone. These people that Michelle took in often robbed Michelle’s money and prescription drugs although Michelle knew it, she was more afraid of being alone that being robbed and taken advantage of. Michelle’s phobia ended up playing a part in her eventual death at the age of 53 years old. Michelle allowed a stranger to practice his new craft of tattooing on her. In so doing, Michelle somehow became infected with some bacteria that gave her blood poisoning, which overwhelmed her lymphatic system, leaving her with a bad case of lymphedema. An infection finally settled into the bones of hip and knees, eating into her bones, making walking difficult and painful. It seemed Michelle was beyond the help of the most powerful antibiotics that were delivered to her via IV or a pic line 24X7. None of it helped her. Michelle had gone septic and even her Infection Control specialist could not help her since surgery to scrape the infected bones clean was the only option but since Michelle was so septic, surgery would likely spread the infection and kill her.
As such Michelle, with swollen and blistered legs was eventually confined to a wheelchair and pain killers. She was beyond the help of the medical community. Even so, Michelle’s phobia of being alone was still far greater than even the unrelenting pain and loss of all independence. Michelle continued to allow street people in with her and even though they stole her narcotic controlled pain pills, she let them stay. This meant Michelle often went without pain pills because the pharmacy limited how often a prescription could be filled. In the end, Michelle finally succumbed to high potassium levels from unknown causes, which caused her heart to give out. At Michelle’s funeral, there were so many street people present all crying and sharing their testimonies of how Michelle helped them and took them in when no one else cared. I realized at her funeral how Michelle’s phobia was a curse for her but a blessing to others. I feel sad when I think of Michelle and wonder what her life might have been without this phobia of being alone. It also has made me aware of how strong these phobias are, where even suffering all she suffered was preferable than being alone. At least for Michelle.