THEY SHOOT HORSES DON'T THEY?




I told the hospice nurse today that maybe the reason I can't sleep is not because I'm afraid I won't wake up, but that I'm afraid I will.

I know that probably sounds horrible, but it's true.  The reason I opted not to have chemo or radiation was because I wanted quality over quantity of life.  I am now 76-1/2 years old.  I've had quantity.  I do not have quality at this point.  Life consists of trying to sleep, trying to eat, trying not to complain too much and once in awhile feeling well enough to at least go out for lunch or to Giant.  (I'm sure the people at the pharmacy must wonder what happened to me).  Hospice is supplying me with all my drugs now, none of which seem to be doing what we want them to do.  When I tell people I'm not sleeping and they ask what I'm taking, they can't believe I'm not knocked into next week.  For some reason, most of the drugs they have tried for me, have just the opposite effect.

Lovely.  So now I not only spend all day obsessing about dying, I get to think about it all night too while I'm wandering around in my little house, going from chair, to couch, to love seat, to computer, to bed and back again.  Well, at least I'm getting some exercise.  With all this nocturnal moving about  you'd think I could at least accomplish something, like maybe waving a dust rag around.  Are you kidding me?  I really am like the walking dead and do zombies really care about dust anyway?

And while I'm on the subject of dust, I found out about a place in Spain that sells ecological urns.  You get a planter with the seed of a tree in it and you (well not you, but somebody) puts your ashes in the planter, plants it at a designated spot and the tree grows and you become part of the tree.  I think that's a wonderful idea and I am going to order one and instruct my brother to use it for my ashes when the time comes.  It is certainly more appealing to me to think that part of me will continue to nourish and grow a living thing rather than be put in a overpriced casket, buried in the ground and have an overpriced stone or marker at the site.  Yes, for me a tree is what I'll be.  Too bad, Barbara Walters won't be around to ask me "what kind of a tree will you be?"  Well, I'd like to be a blue spruce but I don't know if that's one of the options.

Yesterday I called about the cost of cremation.  It's too expensive, but I guess you have pay the going rate.  Actually it only costs $400.00 for the cremation, the rest is for "other services", all of which sound necessary.  I don't know.  Never trust a funeral director.

I also have decided that I will consent to having a Mass said.  This is for Tom and any family and friends who feel the need to say goodbye in a church setting.  What I originally wanted was just a good old fashioned beer party, with lots of beer, pretzels and balloons.  I told my brother I've had lots of all, except balloons - but I like them and I think they lend an air of festivity and color to the occasion.

I hope I've not offended anyone with this light hearted essay of a rather somber subject.  But  hey, always leave 'em laughing I say.  And anyway you're all welcome to come to my party and gaze at my tree.

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