It is not a good week for me, emotionally. As many of you know, the cancer was only a part of the hell that I have gone through since 2002. After all of the grueling treatment for that dreaded disease, which I was done with in early 2003 mind you, I had a butcher of a plastic surgeon botch my reconstruction, abandoning my care and leaving me with an infection that spread throughout my body, leaving me immune compromised, with horrible wounds and, near death.

It took months of treatment, some of it horribly painful, in order to get the infection under control. There is no way to know, however, if it will come back. It can, at any time. I live with this and have come to accept it but, it is certainly difficult. It took twelve or thirteen surgeries (I don’t even know without looking at my paperwork) in order to get my body back to as normal as it can be. All that pain, anticipation, anesthesia and  fear is because of the irresponsibility of one man, who calls himself a doctor.

Or at least he used to. These days, he is calling himself a producer. Since 2006, he has produced ten documentaries. I was sick to my stomach when my friend called to let me know that he saw in Newsday, Part II, that this certain someone would be making an appearance at some sort of Port Jefferson Film Festival this weekend. You can meet him in person!

Well, I am trying to keep my anger at bay, where I leave it most  of the time but, it is truly a struggle for me this time. I knew that he was producing movies now. He even has an IMDB profile. I just can’t imagine that he has gone on to live this glamorous and successful life when he left me in tatters.

So, I would like to say this to him:

“As you shake the hands of people this weekend who come to see you and praise you for the creation of your documentary films, remember what you have done to me (and others, as I understand). Remember that my two little boys had to see their mommy suffer and cry and be in pain. That she couldn’t always attend their school functions or take them sledding or get up in the morning to get them off for school. Remember that not only did you harm me but, you harmed everyone who loves me; my parents, my husband, my kids, my sisters, my aunts, uncles, grandparents and friends. I hope you will remember that you  took away my faith in people for a long time. That you broke my heart and my spirit and caused me pain and suffering that will always be a part of who I am.

You are a callous doctor and a despicable human being. If I had been smarter, I would have done my homework and avoided your knife at all costs. Your bedside manner was horrendous and all that seemed to matter to you was your gold chains and your Porsche. Oh, and the picture of yourself hanging in your office from some magazine (I think GQ) touting you as one of the most eligible bachelors in NYC or something ridiculous like that.

You are a disgrace to the profession and I only hope and pray that someday you will have some idea of the pain and anguish you put me and my entire family through.

You may be a creator of films, doc, but, to me you are a destroyer; of body, mind and soul.

I have been working every day for the last seven years to repair the damage you have done. I would hazard to say that my work is much more difficult and important than yours, and I don’t care how much money or how many Emmys or Oscars you win.

In my book, you will always be a loser.”