"It's only a few dollars."

"It's only a few dollars." These are the worst words for me to hear right now. I'll tell you why, but before then I must add a disclaimer that this is a bit long. It is necessary though in order to explain why this is so painful for me. This is also the story of the last year of my life. It might sound a bit whiny in places to some. Believe me, it is not. I'm angry, but things happened and now I have to fix it. This is also a plea to others to ask for the full story before assuming things and sticking their foot and leg into their mouths with flippant words such as 'it's only a few dollars'.

This past year was financial hell on me. It started out good. I had $2000 in my savings account, $500 in my personal account, and I had a small flat to live in. Then Sod (Murphy, for those of you that have no British culture) came along with his little law and nearly wiped me off the planet. I was diagnosed with cervical cancer and had to get that removed, an expensive surgery. I thought I could rebound from it though, so I walked out of the hospital with hope. Then I got sick. I couldn't work because I spent all my energy in classes and trying to do homework. The doctors didn't know what was wrong, so all they could tell me to do was rest more.

One semester down. My grades were falling because of the complications. I still had a job, but I rarely went in. My boss was also my friend and mentor, so he understood. My summer semester was upon me, and I was due to go to Egypt for a class trip. Financial aid was supposed to pay for it, so I had no worries. However, the school didn't put the class into the registrar properly, so the financial aid office never got the money to pay for my trip. That was $3000 that I'd find out that I had to pay for when I get back. By this time, I had no savings account due to being sick and not working much. After all, I still had to pay the rent, utilities and eat. All in all, I was in the red by a significant amount.

I felt better after being in the dry desert for a month, so when I came back to the States I was able to work. I got about three-quarters of my summer trip paid off, which was great. Then the fall term started and I find out at the last possible moment that the government cuts off financial aid at 192 credit hours. I had no money to pay for school this term, which was my last term before I was to graduate. I also couldn't pay rent. I was lost and frustrated at this point since I really couldn't see a way out of the situation.

Thankfully, one can have a few letters written that beg the government to let a student get financial aid after they've been cut off for this reason. I was able to get my boss and my academic advisor write these letters without a problem, then I turned in the paper and got just barely enough money to pay for my tuition. I was still $1,000 short from the summer though, and needed to get books for the fall term I was facing. My boss loaned me $1,500 to get me out of the problem. After all, I couldn't get my transcripts released for graduate school or even pass my classes without having all this paid off.

I was left with one little problem. I couldn't afford my flat. I had no where to live. It was like being a kid all over again. Even back then my family had been very poor. It was odd to reflect on it then, but my family never made over $10,000 a year. Never. Yet somehow I managed to get as far as I did. When I looked back at where I'd come from and look to where I was aiming at, I sensed pride. I wouldn't give up. I didn't give a damn about Sod's Law. I was convinced that I'd do what I needed to do to make it.

I did. I moved into my office. I had no flat to pay rent on and no utilities to pay. I still had a food bill, and other annoying little things that come up when applying to graduate school, like GRE fees, application fees, and the like. It was looking better, but not good. At least I had hope and steeled determination. Then I got really sick again. I passed out on my way to class because I'd been fighting it so hard. I woke up in the student hospital with tubes coming out of me and a lot of confusion. I'd passed out from malnutrition. In the last year of struggles, I had ignored a basic of life and paid the price for it. What choice did I have though? It was food or school in my eyes. I wanted to go to school more.

Now, it is about a half year later. I'm still not recovered financially. I still worry about if I'll be able to eat the week after I get paid. I still worry about the future. I'm still terrified of being sick. When some recommends I buy something as simple as a jump drive for school or work, I tell them I can't afford it. They flippantly say, "It's only a few dollars." That few dollars can make sure I can eat another half week.

I am humbled back to my beginnings of poverty and struggling for food. I remember clearly. I'll never take it for granted again. I hope that the last year of my life has set an example for how little it takes from going from stable and secure to completely down. I know that anyone can get out of this with a lot of determination and will power. I'm on my way out now. Sod be damned.