Widow says she can't afford to die

Editor, the Advocate:

I, Dorothy G. Wilson, live out on Ramona Road in Seadrift.

Every so often, there is a very bad odor in the air that causes me to have a severe allergic spell. My eyes burn, my nose burns and drips clear water, my lungs burn, my mouth and throat burn, I get a bad headache and get very nauseated.

I cannot tell if the odor comes from the north or south, but the air is full of it. After putting up with this for some time, I called the Port Lavaca law (I live out of Seadrift city limits). The lady at the law office wanted to send an ambulance out here. I said, no thank you! I cannot just keep running to the hospital every time this happens. Send a policeman out here instead. I told her it has a chemical smell - maybe from the Formosa plant? She said, "If the plant is releasing something, we cannot do anything about that." But she did send a policeman. He walked all through the brush and said the odor smelled like charcoal.

I become so ill from the odor, I am awake most of the night, and I am 83 years old. I just don't think I will live to a very ripe old age having to put up with this odor much longer.

P.S. - When it rains, it pours. This really bad odor in the air finally caused me to go to the hospital where I found out I now have Dyspnea - in other words, acute bronchitis. My neighbor says someone is burning creosote. The burn ban has been lifted, and people are burning everything. I am not the only one that is getting ill from it. I did consider just going on and dying from it, but I haven't made enough payments to the funeral home to bury me yet. So I have to wait awhile longer to die.

I just found out my Medicaid was dropped because of the raise on my Social Security check. Now I have a big hospital bill to pay.

What does an old lady of 83 years do? I can't afford to die, but I can't afford to live, either. By the way, my husband was a Seadrift shrimper for many years. Old widow women can't get help from the bay workers fund. There isn't any.

Dorothy Geraldine Wilson, Seadrift