I am dying. This is a simple statement of fact. Mature people should be able to accept this at face value, and react accordingly. So one would think. Instead one gets the queerest reactions. Most deny the obvious, and say — quite without evidence or justification — that I’ll live at least ten years or more. How convenient for them, not to have to confront anything real or unpleasant in the immediate future.
My husband set up this blog for me. I’ll try to learn how to work it. It will be difficult. The interface between my spirit and my body is slowly going out. As my brain is dying, there are episodes of “static” or storms of uncontrolled thoughts, that I have to fight hard to control. It takes a lot of energy, just to appear normal. I am not. My disease is mostly invisible. Recently, I have started to add stuttering sounds, at the end of my words, like da-da da da, or pa-pa-pa-pa-pa… for minutes on end. Very embarrassing. And very uncomfortable for those who want to believe the convenient lie that I’ll be around for the foreseeable future.
This won’t just be about dying. I’m also writing a novel and consulting with an incipient start-up company to develop automated medical diagnosis software for the web. I have opinions on politics, life, and how to improve the medical system. I am a spiritual being, and so I don’t always have the human perspective of the world. The spiritual view is usually quite different. Sometimes poetry blurts out, unbidden, silly sometimes.
Selchietracker has written this to prime my blogging pump. Channeling me.