Professor Catherine Josephine Wilkins mentally abused me.

Professor Catherine Josephine Wilkins mentally abused and cheated on me while I was dying of cancer. She has left me with severe, crushing PTSD. Ever since, my mental peace and life has been ravaged. This is the most painful story I can tell you. I have been devastated ever since. When I think of Catherine, I think of my rapist. I think of the person that nearly killed me as my body was battling cancer and chemo to live. I was her boyfriend and we would have married, years ago, when I was diagnosed with Hodgkins Disease (lymphoma). Contrary to what she has told many, Professor Catherine Wilkins did not care for me. She did not pay my medical bills. There was no such care from her. What I received from Catherine Wilkins was callous infidelity. #METOO Professor Catherine Wilkins was cheating on me, as I was fighting for my life, taking chemo (ABVD), as I lay weak watching all my hair fall out, vomiting, and losing my white blood cells. As I was filled with fevers of over 100 degrees from internal infections because of my newly weak immune system, as I injected myself with special medication (Filgrastim/Neupogen) into my thigh to increase my blood cells and keep me alive — she was committing adultery on me. I almost died several times. She was not there. She did not care. She was having several affairs. The severely increased stress from her infidelity and deceit while my veins were filled with harsh, burning chemicals, equally almost killed me. My fragile health did not matter to her. Her continued cheating, and the coverup, is what she was focused on. Learning of Catherine Wilkins’ adultery, barely surviving cancer under these terrible conditions, I have been ravaged by daily PTSD and have tried taking my own life many times. Each day is often a struggle not to kill myself. It is the wonderful Dr. Robert Veith, MD at the Charity Hospital of New Orleans that saved my life. It is the nurses that gently put the needle that would feed chemo into my veins that saved me. It is the social workers and oncologists of New Orleans that are the reason I am breathing today. Let me tell you a few other factors that helped me live on: My dream to be an extremely good husband, and an extremely good father one day (if chemo has not taken my fertility), kept me alive. I am an artist. Among the many arts in my training: I am a painter, photographer, writer, and co-composer, lyricist, and librettist of musicals. My ultimate drive to leave a positive, artistic mark on this earth, to one day change the world of art, literature, and music, kept me alive. Each time I nearly died of fever and neutropenia, I told my oncologists, they must save my life, because I have to impart to this world art. I told my nurses, as they aligned the needle to my vein, keep me alive because I have to give this world better. I told myself, stay alive because the art world needs me. Catherine Wilkins was the most negative factor in my battle with cancer. I live by two self-made mottos. First: “Don’t be a victim. Be your own hero.” I am a victim of Catherine’s adultery, and more of her wrongs, and I will state it as “victim.” But I am also my own hero. And each day I wake up, I fight to be my own hero. My second motto is: “Art is not the result of creation. Art is the pinnacle of creation.” I am an artist. I strive to make the best. Anyone can create. It just means you made something. Art, is the best that mankind can bring forth at that moment in time, of that place in history, with all that is known. I believe art is a single, unified world; only speaking many languages. I will also tell you: Oncologists and social workers are saints. They gave me the gift of my life. I will tell you, anything I have done in my life since then, everything I will ever do, I owe to this trinity: 1) Art. 2) Dr. Robert Veith, MD. 3) The social worker who after each treatment would write a note to tell the downstairs pharmacy to sneak into a small paper bag my Neupogen injection (which cost many hundreds of dollars), because I could not afford it, and I would have certainly died after each chemo cycle without it. This social worker, is a miracle worker. That secret miracle of hers — sneaking me Neupogen — and my thanks for it, I feel everyday. Those mortal angels at the Charity Hospital of New Orleans gave me life. I have been informed Catherine Wilkins applied for the CDA Scholarship (Catholic Daughters of the Americas). Only recently did I discover this past application. On her scholarship application, Catherine wrote these exact words: “The illness of a loved one has depleted my savings and caused a great deal of medical debt which I help pay, while at the same time impeding my graduate education and making my progress as a student somewhat difficult. “Unfortunately, over the summer between my graduation and my planned matriculation at Tulane, my boyfriend of four years developed a cough which prompted a visit to the doctor’s office. After several tests and minor surgeries, the doctors discovered that my boyfriend was suffering from Hodgkin’s Disease, a type of cancer. As an orphan, my boyfriend had no one else to care for him, and I was reluctant to abandon him in such a state. Since he was unable to maintain treatment in New Orleans, it was necessary for me to remain in the Tampa area. “Unfortunately, I had not planned on attending U.S.F. for graduate school, and consequently had not applied for any scholarships. … I was extremely troubled … due to the stress I experienced as a result of my boyfriend’s battle with cancer… “… I earned twelve credit hours toward my Master’s Degree in Art History at U.S.F. before my boyfriend’s recovery allowed me to continue my education at Tulane University. While I still have a tuition scholarship and a job at the school, I have encountered a great deal of expenses … along with aiding my boyfriend with his accumulated medical expenses … Because I stayed in Florida with my boyfriend for the first year of my graduate experience and payed for much of my schooling on my own, my savings have been virtually depleted… “Recently, my grandmother, a Catholic Daughter for over four decades, brought this scholarship to my notice. It seems like true help from God … I would be more able to dedicate some of my own earnings each month to help my boyfriend meet the cost of the medical expenses he has unfortunately accrued. While his illness and the ensuing chaotic changes in my life have certainly been taxing … I am very grateful that I have had this opportunity … to help another … the past year has taught me so much about life, love, and faith …” These are all lies. Despicable lies. I am that boyfriend that Catherine writes about in her scholarship application. Except for myself enduring cancer, Catherine Wilkins lied on nearly every account. *** Catherine writes: “After several tests and minor surgeries…” This shows how little Catherine Wilkins knows of my condition that she professes. I had one surgery. And it was not “minor.” My chest was cut open through the bone, my sternum split apart, drainage tubes put in my abdomen, the doctor looked at my cancer inside my body, took a biopsy, then my chest was wired shut. I have metal wires across my sternum and a very long scar down my chest, and two more on my stomach, that I see everyday. *** Catherine used the fact that I was an abused orphan (I ran away from home to escape the abuse), to say “…I was reluctant to abandon him in such a state.” Catherine did abandon me. She committed adultery on me. In this form of lie, Catherine used my past abuse, to further abuse me in the present. *** Catherine writes: “Since he was unable to maintain treatment in New Orleans, it was necessary for me to remain in the Tampa area.” This is false. I received all my treatment in New Orleans. She lied about this to benefit her own living and school location. *** Catherine further writes: “…due to the stress I experienced as a result of my boyfriend’s battle with cancer…” Catherine experienced no stress from my cancer. She was callous, calculated in gaslighting (decieving) me, and she was cheating on me. She knows very little of my battle with cancer, because she was not there. *** Catherine also states: “…at U.S.F. before my boyfriend’s recovery allowed me to continue my education at Tulane University.” She was not present for my recovery. Catherine Wilkins impeded my recovery. She was the greatest disabling factor during my cancer treatment. *** Catherine makes numerous statements such as: “…aiding my boyfriend with his accumulated medical expenses…” *** She even writes: “It seems like true help from God … I would be more able to dedicate some of my own earnings each month to help my boyfriend meet the cost of the medical expenses he has unfortunately accrued.” Catherine Wilkins did not pay for anything related to my cancer treatment. She did not pay for my Neupogen or any medical bill. She probably has no idea what Neupogen is. Certainly not at the time when ABVD was burning my insides, causing me extreme nausea, and taking my hair and worse – my immune system. Does she even know what ABVD stands for? Catherine was never there for a single one of my treatments, she did not take care of me, and she did not incur a single debt. When after a chemo treatment, my blood count dropped to deadly levels, and it was in the middle of the night, probably midnight, that I became infected from nearly any germ, and my body was burning up, and I couldn’t decide to try to let the fever pass or not, I had to crawl to the phone — alone — and call a cab to take me to the hospital. I was dying. I knew it. Somehow at the late hour, the marvelous Dr. Robert Veith, MD showed up, like a rescuing angel. He instantly put me on antibiotics. Dr. Veith told me I was hours from certain death. If I stayed at home and tried to let the fever pass, it would have been the last fever of my life. It was one of several times Dr. Veith saved my life. Catherine Wilkins was never there. She never met a single one of my New Orleans doctors or nurses. Does Catherine even know how to uncap a Neupogen syringe, tap out any oxygen bubbles, pinch the skin, and inject Neupogen into a cancer patient’s thigh, upper arm, belly, or buttocks? No. She never did this. She wasn’t there for me. I was completely alone. Catherine Wilkins states: “As an orphan, my boyfriend had no one else to care for him, and I was reluctant to abandon him in such a state.” Catherine: How can you tell such a lie? For your own gain. After I nearly died — alone — several times — crawling to my phone for a cab barely before I died, cleaning up my own vomit from chemo because I didn’t make it to the toilet in time — you, Catherine, instead write such terrible lies of your actions, on your college scholarship. Every time I was weak, I had to scrape my own strength together. Charity Hospital is what paid my medical debts for chemotherapy and related treatments. A magnificent social worker is who made sure I had Neupogen. I am the one — alone — that had to disinfect my own home, fix my own meals my stomach could handle on chemo (mostly salads and vitamins), wipe and dig out vomit from my carpet when my stomach couldn’t handle anything, inject my own thigh. Catherine Wilkins’ adultery while I fought cancer is what almost ended my life. Catherine Wilkins’ lies are pathological. Catherine, I ask you: Do you know how this feels? It is being raped. You have raped me as your “loved one” and as a cancer patient. I was enduring cancer, begging the Creator for my life, being cheated on and lied to. And now used — and spiritually raped — so an adulterer can advance themselves. Catherine: How could you? Why? Was cheating not enough pain to me? And now you use my name and condition to apply for scholarships? Catherine: Do you have no limit in your cruelty and selfishness? Almost everything I hold sacred, Catherine Josephine Wilkins took from me. There has been a pain in my chest cavity for years. I do not know if it is cancer returning. Some days I hope it is, so I would die. But then I think of my dedication to bettering art, and my dream to one day be a good husband and father, and raise a next generation of productive children that may become leaders in art, medicine, or positive social consciousness. Because of the PTSD I suffer from Catherine’s actions, I have not had any cancer checkups since my initial treatment. Not one. Because I am afraid, that if my Hodgkins Lymphoma returns, or I have developed another cancer, and I must undergo chemotherapy again, I am afraid the PTSD from Catherine will truly kill me this time. I am afraid my depression that often overcomes me from these memories and flashbacks, on top of new chemo, will weaken my immune system more than before, and if I acquire neutropenia, if my white blood cells drop and my body becomes infected, I may not inject myself with Neupogen and I may just finally let myself die. When death from neutropenia is close and might occur, I know that is when my morale to live on will be the weakest. I do not want your sympathy. I want to be heard. All victims of adulterers and cheaters need to be heard. Even now as I type, I shake from the memories of such incredible hurt. Read my story, but please, I beg, I want to be left alone. I have suffered enough. I am continuing to struggle to repair my mental health and my life after the damage Catherine has caused. Surviving adultery, cancer, chemo, PTSD, and so many other dreadful situations has been more difficult than Sisyphus’ fate. Each day I pull from my inner strength. Each day, my soul cries. #METOO

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