Thank you all for the warm words, but I see little upside for me left - just increasing levels of pain warded off by doses of morphine that would essentially deform me. There's a lot of self-misery in this; I don't know how much longer I have or even if this treatment is working. For all I know this pill could reduce the tumors enough such that I could get off this oxygen therapy machine and move about freely. Like someone who isn't tied down to tanks of oxygen.
Or pigs could begin flying backwards into my bum. I want to see how I feel this weekend. Take a nice, long walk with her by my side again. It's been some time since that's happened.
I'm just tired of the daily grind of pain that I've endured for months. Some days are better than others, but on the whole it's all been on a giant negative slope. I've become the embodiment of that Louie CK skit where every day he gets up is going to be worse than the previous day. I've hit that stage. Possibly.
I'll talk to her this weekend about it, although I might not. For all of you saying I'm brave, I'm really not. To be brave I would've ended my life eons ago. To endure like this, to lose a sense of my own humanity - this is weak. I'm too afraid to die suddenly so I've allowed my quality of life to slowly slip away to where it is now. So no, I don't consider myself brave. Far from it. I'm complacent.
interesting scorcho facts - I was at WTC
during 9/11.
I wish I could re-edit parts of that piece, but I hadn't slept that night and was still on a kick of adrenaline and fear. The red and blue streaming up WTC that day? That's bravery. Not some twenty-something year old strapped to an IV bag. I rarely acknowledge I was at WTC during 9/11 whenever the anniversary rolls around. I've so successfully compartmentalized what I saw that day in my mind that I've never even left the Financial District when it came to my job; my post-graduation AmeriCorps*VISTA placement was at a non-profit blocks from Battery Park, and the organization I've worked for since is located a few blocks off Wall St.
More ramblings - That picture accompanying the article was taken during my high school prom. Pre-cancer scorcho/Dave was a handsome motherfucker. I may write in broad, depressing brush strokes now, but it's impossible for this. Pre-cancer Dave was a god among men who lacked only in self-confidence.