DO NOT GO GENTLE

Well it's been quite an eventful few weeks.  I've managed to confound my doctor, who probably at this point wishes she'd never met me, spent over $6oo. on supplements and shots that may or may not make me feel better, harrassed anyone who was in anyway connected to the medical field about how to give myself these shots and have pretty much stopped cooking, let alone eating.

I was so excited about this Mistletoe thing, and you know me, I can't keep quiet about anything.   I had to tell everyone within earshot about it, so I have everyone  jazzed up about it because they think that good old Georgie will be around for a while longer.  And heaven forbid that I mention I am thinking of throwing in the towel, you would think I was going to expire tomorrow. Actually it's pretty great that I have so many supporters,  but the thing is I'm not sure that I can keep this project going.  Financially it's much more than I bargained for.  (Sorry, for which I bargained).  Grammar never was my strong suit.

I seem to have a problem communicating my wants to purveyors of certain services.  I want nutritional guidance and the next thing I know it's suggested that I seek out a spiritual advisor.  I want to try a certain therapy that I read has had excellent results for some people, and I get loaded up with all kinds of supplements. However there is one area where I seem to have gotten my point across.  The woman who cuts my hair has really been doing a spectacular job.  I've never gotten so many compliments on my appearance. Or maybe it's the way I've been complaining,  people who haven't seen me in a while are surprised they don't see a feeble, washed out ghostly semblance of Georgie.  So when they see this version  they can't believe their eyes.  Also I finally got some new clothes to spruce up my rather worn, shabby wardrobe.

A friend of mine called me the other night and asked me how the Mistletoe Therapy was going.  I then proceeded to go on a rampage about how much I spent the first time I saw the doctor between her office visit ($350) and supplements (over $250.) which didn't include some that she wanted me to buy elsewhere.  And, she charges $65.00 for a 5 minute phone call, (costs go up incrementally).   I told my friend that I didn't know if I could continue.  She then said that I just had to, that it sounded so promising, yadda, yadda.  and I said the only thing it sounded like to me at this point was enriching the doctor's coffers.  She said she never heard me talk like this and said "I never knew you were such a spitfire, you've always seemed so compliant".  Huh?  Me, compliant?  Well maybe when she knew me in grade school I was a shy little thing, but certainly not now.

I guess that's a good thing.  As Lou Grant remarked to Mary Richards, "you've got spunk!"  I like spunk.  Certainly no one who knows me now will accuse me of being a shrinking violet.  And as I contemplate the end stages of this incidious disease I think having spunk is a good thing.  I will go out with not with a whimper, but with a bang!  I'll not go gentle into that good night.