Money...the root of all anxiety

Today I did something I never thought, in my entire life I would do.  I went to a food bank.  I was humiliated and embarrassed, started crying when someone said something nice to me, but I went.  I'll be 60 years old in a few months.  I feel like my life is falling apart.  I started falling apart when I reached 50 (physically) and became unable to work seven yeas ago, but I still had an income.  My husband still worked, also.  We always had money to do what we needed to do.  Hell, we always had money to do for anyone who needed something done. We had (had being the operative word) a savings account.  It never occurred to us that within a few months we would be broke, living on my disability,  and dependent on other people the way other people had depended on us.  In June my husband, Rodney, was diagnosed with congestive heart failure, diabetes, arthritis, and neuropathy.  He can't work.  He was in the ICU for 4 days.  Now this coming Friday, he goes to see an oncologist.  I'm hoping against hope that he does not have cancer.   We are surviving.  He has applied for disability, but we all know how that goes.