I am going through a period which I aptly think of as the lonely time. It seems rather universal. The only thing I can conclude is that I will die alone, as I now live.
I've written about the people who have made it quite clear that I am putting their own self-interest at risk by choosing to live a certain way. In making that decision, I am, according to these people, putting myself at risk; I need to think of what impact that will have upon them emotionally, and I need to stop acting selfishly.
I've yet to hear any of these people thank me for keeping their emotional well-being in mind as I learn more and more about this cancer, and how it works. I will never know if that's because they disagree with my approach; if they feel I am lying when I relate how terribly I've been treated by doctors, if they feel I am egotistical to think that I might know more than a hematologist about what is taking place in my body.
Not that long ago - sometime over the Christmas - New Year season - a couple friends reached out to me, and suggested that we all get together. That they fly here, and spend a few days. I was very excited about this; I was extremely enthused. I of course told them it would be simply great, and to keep me posted.
I walked around the house for a week or two, thinking of little else but spending some time with these people.
There never was a follow-up phone call. There never was an email. I talked with one of these people recently, and timidly brought up the topic; I was told, essentially, that they had better things to do than spend time with me.
At least I can understand that. I've maintained for quite some time that nobody really wants to spend time with me, a worthless fucktard who is dying. I get the frighteningly clear impression that I am taking a bit too long to die for their happiness to continue without interruption.
All I can say is that with any luck I will in fact die soon. I cannot begin to convey how completely and absolutely demoralizing it is to wander through my days and never, not once, talk with another human being. To not hear the sound of another human's voice for weeks at a time becomes...the best way to put that is perhaps to call it what it is: "Surreal."
I have moved into what I fervently hope is the final stage of my existence, that stage which immediately precedes a sudden increase in the ferocity of the attack by the cancer of the body. That stage which won't last all that long. That stage which will be marked by a sudden increase in the negative symptoms of the cancer.
That stage which will end with peace, but which will also hold so much pain as I struggle to reach that place of peace.
