The news of Shannen Doherty’s passing caught the world by storm and left many mourning. The Charmed star was 53 and battled cancer for the past seven years of her life.
Before her tragic passing, she made a heartbreaking post online.
During her battle with the disease, Doherty often shared updates regarding her health condition. She was first diagnosed with breast cancer in 2015 when she disclosed that she had ‘invasive breast cancer metastatic to at least one lymph node.’
After several surgeries and treatments, the 90210 star experienced remission after her initial cancer diagnosis, but the disease later returned.
In 2020, she shared the devastating news that she had been diagnosed with stage four breast cancer, a severe stage where the cancer spreads to various parts of the body.
In 2023, Doherty confirmed that the cancer had metastasized to her brain and bones, resulting in surgery that removed ‘almost all’ of the brain tumor.
In her final social media post, the actress shared a clip from the Let’s Be Clear podcast on her Instagram page.
“So, you know, for the first time in I have no idea how long, I’m going to be on chemo for I have no idea if it’s going to be, you know, three months or if its going to be six months or if we are going, you know, if after three months if it’s not working if we’re going to change again,” he said in the clip.
“Like, I don’t really, that’s not something that I can predict. It’s not something my doctors can predict and it’s scary.
“It’s like a big wake up call at the same time I got to say that there is some positivity there and the positivity is that because my molecular structure of my cancer cells changed recently.
“It means that there’s a lot more protocols for me to try. So, you know, for the first time in a couple months probably I feel hopeful because there are so many more protocols now.”
“Whereas before I was hopeful but I was still getting prepared.”
Doherty’s death was confirmed yesterday, July 14, by her friend and publicist Leslie Sloane.
“It is with a heavy heart that I confirm the passing of actress Shannen Doherty.
“On Saturday, July 13, she lost her battle with cancer after many years of fighting the disease. The devoted daughter, sister, aunt and friend was surrounded by her loved ones as well as her dog, Bowie. The family asks for their privacy at this time so they can grieve in peace.”
We are so very sorry for this devastating loss. May she rest in peace.
Wealthy Neighbor’s Son Shattered My Window with a Ball — They Declined to Compensate, but Fate Struck from an Unexpected Source
I marched outside, the offending baseball clutched in my hand like a grenade. Baron Bigshot was in his driveway, polishing his luxury car with the care most people reserve for newborns.
“Hey!” I shouted, storming up to him. “Your son’s baseball just came through my window. It nearly hit my daughter!”
He barely glanced up. “Oh? And you’re sure it was my son’s ball?”
I thrust the blueberry pie-lathered ball in his face. “Unless baseballs are falling from the sky now, yes, I’m pretty sure.”
He sighed like I was some peasant interrupting his important car-polishing duties. “Look, Ms…”
“Angela. We’ve been neighbors for three years.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Right, right. Angela. Do you have any proof it was my Billy’s ball?”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Proof? There’s pie filling on it!”
“Ah,” he nodded sagely, “so you admit you tampered with the evidence.”
I felt my eye start to twitch. “Listen here, Baron Big—”
“I beg your pardon?”
I took a deep breath. “Mr. Worthington. Your son broke my window. He could have seriously hurt my daughter. The least you could do is pay for the repairs.”
He chuckled, actually chuckled! “My dear, do you know how much that would cost?”
“Probably less than one of your car’s tires,” I muttered.
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t appreciate your tone. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a birthday party to prepare for. Important guests are coming, you understand. Out of my property!”
He said that. Yep! No apology. No NOTHIN’.
As he turned away, something in me snapped. “Oh, I understand perfectly. I understand that you care more about your fancy party than the safety of your neighbors!”
He spun around, his face red. “Now see here—”
But I was on a roll. “No, you see here! Your son has been terrorizing this neighborhood for months. We’ve all been too polite to say anything, but enough is enough. You need to take responsibility!”
“I suggest you leave now before I call the police for trespassing.”
Defeated and furious, I trudged back home, the sound of his expensive sprinkler system mocking me with every step.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of cleaning up glass and comforting a still-shaken Penny.
As evening fell, the sounds of Baron Bigshot’s party drifted over. Laughter, clinking glasses, and what I was pretty sure was a live band.
I was just about to close the curtains (what was left of them anyway) when I saw something odd. A group of young men in masks, all wearing football jerseys, was marching up Baron Bigshot’s perfectly manicured lawn.
“What in the world?” I murmured, pressing my nose against the wooden window sill divider.
Suddenly, they all raised their arms, each holding a football. And then, in perfect synchronization, they let loose.
Footballs rained down on Baron Bigshot’s party like a sports equipment hailstorm. I watched, mouth agape, as chaos erupted.
Guests screamed and ducked, champagne flutes shattered, and Baron Bigshot himself stood in the middle of it all, looking like a man who’d just seen his worst nightmare come to life.
As quickly as it started, it was over. The football players high-fived each other and jogged away, leaving destruction in their wake.
I was still trying to process what I’d seen when there was a knock at my door. It was Mrs. Stewart, grinning like the cat that got the cream.
“Did you see that?” she asked, barely containing her glee.
I nodded, still stunned. “What… how…”
She winked. “Let’s just say my nephew’s football team owed me a favor. Thought our dear neighbor could use a taste of his own medicine.”
I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing, tears streaming down my face. “Mrs. Stewart, you’re a genius!”
She patted my arm. “Sometimes, dear, karma needs a little push.”
The next morning, I was enjoying my coffee when there was a furious pounding at my door. I opened it to find Baron Bigshot, looking decidedly less baronial in his rumpled pajamas.
“YOU!” he sputtered, pointing an accusing finger at me. “You did this!”
I took a sip of my coffee, savoring the moment. “Did what?”
“Don’t play dumb! The football attack! It ruined everything!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And do you have any proof it was me?”
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, clearly recognizing his own words being thrown back at him.
I leaned against the doorframe, feeling surprisingly calm. “You know, Mr. Worthington, sometimes life has a funny way of teaching us lessons. Maybe this is yours.”
His face turned an impressive shade of purple. “This isn’t over!”
As he stormed off, I called after him, “Oh, and Mr. Worthington? You might want to consider investing in some wooden planks for your windows. I hear they’re all the rage these days.”
I closed the door, grinning to myself. Penny looked up from her coloring book, curiosity shining in her eyes.
“Mommy, why was that man yelling?”
I scooped her up, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Oh, sweetie. He just learned a very important lesson about being a good neighbor.”
Well, folks, there you have it. Karma works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it? Sometimes it’s swift, sometimes it takes its sweet time, and sometimes it needs a little nudge from a well-meaning neighbor with connections to a high school football team!
So, tell me, have you ever had a neighbor from hell? A Baron Bigshot of your own? Drop your stories in the comments. After all, misery loves company, and nothing brings people together quite like tales of nightmare neighbors!
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