Lamentations tumbling dice...
So many things in this squirrel cage mind...
My three year anniversary of completion of radiation and chemo for throat cancer approaches..YAY!!, I guess, but not sincerely feeling it.
I turned 62 a few days ago. I was worried about that one. Both my eldest sister and oldest friend passed last year, each within weeks of, but short, their 62nd birthday's. I had envisioned some omen there, but here I am yet.
So my Oncology appointment, along with a ENT appointment, a Primary care appointment and Psychiatry appointment, topped off by a good old fashioned colonoscopy Oct 2nd.
So very much joy awaits me, and then hopefully, should I survive it all, a return to my sedate, reclusive, and non-eventful existence.
I did have the brief excitement this week of taking a roadside tumble on my little Pride Go-Go scooter at about 1AM a couple days ago as I went out in an insomniac fit to check mail. Luckily, mailbox directly across street from house, and traffic was light, but I was barefoot, and in great distress and foot pain trekking that short distance, hobbling and wobbling, without cane, back to my humble abode to seek assistance retrieving my trusty steed. A slight roll in the gravel and grass, coupled with the humility of clawing my way to my feet and accessing the damages to my person and properties.
Here I sit, days later, again at my post, typing my woes and apparent self pity into the ever accepting abyss of humanity.
The Psychiatrist appointment, of course I dread, with his never ceasing inquisition into my possible inclination toward self harm or community endangerment, which I always deny, with pause. I don't know that I can ever really say that I have no thoughts of self harm, because I do, constantly, but not continuously. I can't say a day goes by that I do not contemplate my death, in one way or other.
The most that I can really say about life any more with all my "baggage," is that life is tolerable, acceptable, I guess even satisfying, in some way that I would in no way be capable of explaining. I could NOT say, however, that life is actually "enjoyable," beyond the occasional brief, yet transient moments that flutter in and out of my awareness like a feather in a hurricane.
The most enjoyable moments of my existence really seem to spring forth from the moments that I am struck with the inspiration and motivation to write.
I do love writing, even the hunt and peck, one finger style writing that I have adapted, and to which, no doubt, many others in the stroke community have become familiar with. I take a lot of online college courses via Coursera, edX and Khan Academy. I need that daily stimulation and mental challenge.
I do think that this particular episode of my writing has reached it's conclusion, and that perhaps sleep, for a brief period is now imminent.