On certain days, I have more to say than others.
I am supposed to be getting my PET scan tomorrow, but now I don’t know wtf is happening. My oncology nurse called this afternoon and said it wasn’t yet approved by insurance so we may need to reschedule. Then she called and said oh wait we’re gonna call them, and I’ll let you know. Well it’s now 9:53 pm, and I haven’t heard, so I guess I’m going to cross my fingers and hope for the best.
It’s hard to deal with last minute schedule changes when you’re a lawyer (because court) and when you’re self-employed (because no back up)- so I really hope it works out.
Also – and, most importantly, – I just want to know wtf is going on inside my body.
Sometimes, I think I can feel this cancer eating my bones.
Don’t get upset. I’m not upset.
Tonight, D and I did this fun thing where we drank and pretended we were strangers meeting at a bar. We had such a good time with it. I would gladly be stuck in a time loop where every day was the first day I met him. We’ve always had amazing chemistry.
I don’t expect you to understand.
The beauty of being (almost) 41, and dying, is that I don’t give a shit what anyone understands, and yet I understand myself better than ever.
It feels like freedom.