Today's Note

Wednesday, July 05, 2017, 11:40 PM

I have been avoiding writing of any kind.  Not true.  I have been scribbling in the coffee shop mornings.  But nothing thoughtful, nothing of consequence.  I sit down at the computer daily, and I often even crank up the word processor.  But I end up with Diablo, Netflix, or YouTube.

Today was a day I had vowed to write.  It was a special day, so I would have something to write about.  It was supposed to have been a special day, but it didn’t turn out that way.  I was supposed to get the results of my recent abdominal CT scan, and find out exactly what kind of evil spirits have moved into my innards.  The results of the scan were “unremarkable”.  That doesn’t mean nothing is wrong, only that they couldn’t find anything.

And this brings me to what I’ve been trying to avoid.  (Trying to avoid the inevitable is another definition of insanity).  Three times previously my doctor sent me to specialists for reasons that were not made clear to me.  It was “just to check something out”, or “to hear what he had to say.”  Each time I was sure the doctor suspected some dread disease, and each time I was wrong.

When Dr,  Jowett ordered this CT scan, I thought, for sure, this time, it’s the big one.  I’m old, worn out, and ready to cash in anytime.   And I was sort of looking forward to it.  Not that I looked forward to dying, but if I’m going to die anyway, I’d like to have some idea of when.

 

And as I tried to prepare myself for my passing, I realized that though it might be sad for some, it will actually solve a lot of many problems for me.  No more physical problems anyway.  No more dry skin, no more itchy eyes, no more juicy farts.  No more smiling and being pleasant with assholes, not that I do much of that in the first place.  There are so many things I worry about, way too many to list here, but after I’m dead, I won’t worry about any of it.

Also, as I have been around, I have developed some habits that might not be necessarily healthy, and from time to time I think about changing some of my behaviors.  Maybe do more of this, maybe less of that.  But now I’m strolling around in Death’s neighborhood, and even though I’m not looking for it, one of these days I’ll end up at his door.  Will how much I drink make any difference?  Or how much pot I smoke?  Or how much bacon I eat?  If you’re going to die anyway, why try to give up pleasurable bad habits?

But this attitude of “what difference does it make after you’re gone” has slopped over into almost every aspect of my life, and it feeds directly into my natural tendency toward procrastination.  I do something, or I don’t.  Doesn’t make any difference; the end is in sight.  Don’t worry about it.

Then, just my luck, the results of the CT come back “unremarkable.”