So these are random musings, I suppose, the ultimate diary of a diary. There is cussing because this is being written as it happened.
I know there is cancer and there is cancer like hopefully, I don’t have stage 4 or something like that.
We will see. I can’t sleep because of this uncertainty. The markets are collapsing but luckily most of our stuff is out of those. This stupid virus is making the whole world cray cray. I know it is dangerous but let’s keep our heads. Let’s work from a basis of fact and look out for each other.
There he is again. He just won’t shut up.
Big fat golfing fucking idiot.
How did we get here? How in the ever loving fuck did this country devolve to a point where untrained chimpanzees would be a more rational choice for leadership?
Back to my issue.
What if it is stage 4? What if I am dying? Bastard inner voice. I knew that mofo would start yapping. Then I think, maybe I am. Then what? Pack for a trip? Hopefully somewhere temperate?
Why am I being given this experience?
What can I learn? I want to be a better person-I want others to have benefited from me being here. I want my birth to have been a positive. But I need to get well.
I eat small but still am nauseous. I am wide awake at 5 a.m. Screw it-I am making a margarita. Oh that is reckless. I still pour it.
I can’t get into the super duper specialist for weeks. Nothing I can do. He is triple booked I am told.
How fucking sick is this country’s people? I literally have to take a number behind other people with cancer. It is almost like a diet of refined sugar and saturated fat could be problematic.
I see a KFC ad for a donut-bunned chicken tender sandwich. This ad has been running a lot lately. I am not sure how invested people are in their own survival.
My back hurts all the time. Pressure on the nerve I am told.
“Don’t Google it. Don’t Google it.”
I Googled it.
(Drinks margarita.) Actually melon V-8 Splash and pure agave mixed. Quite good. Doubt Campbell’s will use this for an advertisement. Google medical research tells me this could be-more likely, slow growing renal cell carcinoma, or less likely, fast growing aggressive. Won’t know for weeks. That helped.
Listening to Alice in Chains on the YouTube. (Reminded that for some reason, Boomers will listen to some of their favorites sing into their 90’s and we lost, to name a few, Layne, Chris, Shannon, and Kurt by the time some of us X-ers hit 40.)
Great-I will get to go to Branson and watch Justin Bieber do nostalgia shows if I live to be that old.
(Still fighting the cancer nonetheless.)
Getting hungry but can’t eat this early. Probably should not drink this early but doctor says to avoid a “medical card.” Do I need say more?
At level nine pain I am wondering what dog my primary care has in the marijuana hunt.
Decides to write diary and share with my anonymous Democratic family the musings of a man vacillating between panic and hope minute to minute.
Thanks in advance to those that read it.
Willing to reach out to anyone in support if someone needs it.