The New Scrawl

If I stand back and look objectively (something I am apparently too good at) I see a short and painful future, or a short and less painful one. Or possibly, a long and frustrating one. The less painful option involves self-medication and/or a quick and dignified exit. The short and painful one involves blind faith in treatment, which eventually may be cut off for lack of effectiveness.

The long and frustrating one involves putting up with things that I am having a harder and harder time putting up with. It's VERY difficult to handle over an extended period of time.

If my radonc is correct, and I am lucky to get only one new tumour a year, then the last option seems likely if that trend continues. To beat that, I would have to take chemo. The problem with chemo is:

1. They are running out of options that won't kill me;
2. I could very well attempt suicide if I had to go through that again. I would need to be hospitalized because I would be a danger to myself. I would need to be on the phone with Suicide Action Montreal a few times a week.I just know that I could not deal with that and remain mentally all there without some serious intervention.

It's sad, but you have to admit that it is an interesting problem if you look at it from a certain distance.

I am not seeing a professional yet, mainly because I have had to spend nearly $3000 over the last few weeks for various things, and insurance doesn't kick in until the end of this month.

But again, I am probably jumping the gun. I lost 12 pounds since September, which is a big deal (in a bad way), but last week I regained about 4 pounds. That's a good sign. Also, the PET scan could reveal good news, but I really have little faith in that. Hopefully I will have the results the same week. And I have been put in charge of two projects at work, one of which would really raise my profile were it were to come to fruition. It's pretty important, and I am proud to be its producer.

I know I sound dramatic. Maybe this is in response to the really bad night on Friday night. I was writhing around in bed in physical and mental anguish. I was calling everyone I knew looking to score pot to ease my pain, even though my lungs were (and still are) shot from my boneheaded move the night before. (I now know that there is a Compassion Club not too far from me.) Pot doesn't bind you up and gives you your appetite back. I never scored any, though. Seems as though all my friends and their acquaintances have quit.

But thankfully Sujerin took me in that night and I slept over. I received friendship, wine decoration advice, some meds and a prescription. I feel much better now, although I expect my breathing to not be normal for some time still.

Please don't be too concerned for me right now. I am quite sane, and in full control of my faculties. I'm simply musing about possible futures. I simply don't think that I have the luxury of others my age in thinking that I have another 40-50 years of life; that would be naïve. I should concentrate on taking advantage of the time I do have, even if I have another 20-40 years. And really, shouldn't we all be doing this? Carpe diem and all that.

On Sunday, I will be 35 years old. I will be at Yulblog on Wednesday for the November meetup. Hopefully I will see you all there?

UPDATE: For now, I might put these things in the back of my mind, but they are still there. I do, after all, feel considerably better now than over the weekend.

UPDATE 2: It has been brought to my attention that I may have inadvertently implied that I was going to off myself with painkillers. I happen to be taking some painkillers right now (for me, any amount is a lot), but I am not thinking about offing myself with them. I hadn't considered how I would exit if I were ever to get to that point. Sorry for scaring anyone with this post.