How Society Sees Us as Useless Once We're Terminal

Not sure if Thomas might want to move this to a different category! Nevertheless, it's something that's come up discussing another topic with pusspins. I was sacked as soon as I told one of my bosses I was terminal: couldn't wait to get rid of me, and hadn't wanted me back at work when the doctors' mistake was revealed. So, as we are what we do, who am I now? I'm still going nearly a year on, and have just asked to do a few hours voluntary work doing one of the jobs I did before (and did well). I certainly wouldn't have the energy to do a full day, but I'd offered a few hours per week covering other people's lunches. Offer declined - Health & Safety/insurance.

So, I wanted to start a forum where we terminal people, whom Society has written off, can boost our own self-image, and also point the way for others feeling marginalised or excluded.

Yesterday, I went for a walk and took some photos and emailed them to a guy called Peter who is passionate about the History of Workhouses (www.workhouses.org). He had a gap in his information about the Nottingham workhouses, and my friend Sophie introduced had me to the subject of "The Iron Hospital". We located it on one of our driving-round-unlikely-locations-for-day-trip outings, and I subsequently did some research at the library. This morning I looked at the site, and Peter has posted up one of my photos and added the info. It has really cheered me up.

What have other terminal people experienced? How have you "opened another door" when the old ones are slammed in your face? Anyone got any stories, and any tips for the rest of us to stay useful, stay meaningfully active?

Lots of love,
Penny