The final breaking point arrived the day Dr. Kessler delivered news that sent my entire world spinning sideways. My heart valve had deteriorated to a genuinely critical level, and the surgery I needed was no longer some optional luxury — it had become an outright necessity for staying alive at all. I sat in his office gripping my own purse tight in both hands, running the numbers over and over in my head. My insurance fell well short of covering it, and the deductible alone was more than enough to completely ruin what little I had left. Without that surgery, I understood clearly, my remaining time could be counted in mere weeks.
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