Archive for August, 2010

I don’t know about you, but all this talking about dying is getting me depressed. There must be a way to make it fun. Remember not long ago, Jack Nicholson was in a movie called “The Bucket List”? That movie was fun, but how many of us out here on the internet are so wealthy, no dream is out of reach? That’s what I thought. Suppose you were on a budget dictated by social security disability and a small VA pension. Now what kind of bucket list could be written. Don’t say buy a bucket. I’ve already thought of that one.

You can tell I am bored, having not worked in years.. This is what I’d like to do. I want to build a realistic bucket list. Something meaningful, yet within the budget of your average dying person. Where would you start? I can tell you right now there will be no “I want to buy a new Ferrari” or “I want to meet some famous person”. Believe me when I tell you there are no living famous people I want to meet. My bucket list will be comprised of a series of adventures. Some more adventurous than others, but all fun. And another thing. There is no limit to how many things can be on a bucket list, nor is there an age or particular situation when one should begin the task of writing a bucket list. I wish I had written one when I was 20 years old.

As I am the longest living dying person in the world, I will assume I won’t be leaving any time real soon. I have a lot of living left to go. Oh, you want to know what I meant by calling myself the longest living dying person? Ok. Try to follow along. Twenty-one years ago I was supposed to die. I didn’t. Time marched on and 17 years ago I was supposed to die again. Guess what? Didn’t happen. Then eleven years ago my body attempted a walk out. The rebellion was a short-lived one. Three years ago my body made an all out effort to kill me. The battle lasted over a year. In the end, guess what? Not dead. The point is, I’ve been saying that I am dying for a very long time. Still, I am smiling and planning adventures on the chance I will live.

I rode the train and lived my life as if I were dying. No more. I am on a new train. The live your life and surprise me with a funeral when the time comes. Adventure is the new password to living. Mostly small ones, but we’ll throw in the occasional big one just to keep things interesting. So begins the bucket list. Any ideas? Share them. Talk to you later. I need to look at a map. I will keep you posted.


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I don’t know, Shakespeare couldn’t figure it out, and my doctors can’t tell either. nobody can know when we will die, or how death will come to us.

I know I told you I have stopped my blog. That the blog was being turned into a book, and that’s that. Done. Well the blog was done, and it did get turned into a book. The manuscript is presently in the hands of the literary agent. So why am I back? What else is there to say? Apparently plenty.

Most of the people I know are reasonable people. For the most part average. They are a good representation of people, in general. With only one exception, nobody talks about or considers how to deal with an impending death. Especially when that impending death is their own. I do though. Despite the best efforts of doctors, I am still, it appears “walking that tight rope” between life, and death.

In this second series of blogs, I’d like to get into a discussion about what it is like to feel your life slipping from you. Slowly, almost imperceptibly it moves the dying person closer and closer until life and death become interchangeable, and death softly and swiftly moves into to the place life used to reside. At the same time we discuss life, and death, I will share with you the journey Denise and I will begin. You see, I may be headed back to the transplant doctor. That’s right. Dr Kwan. Good of you to remember. I am maxed out on my medicine, my bi-ventricular pace maker and defibrillator is fine tuned the best it can be and yet I still fall deeper and deeper into heart failure. I am, as the cowboys put it, “at the end of my rope”, “at the end of the line”, sianara mother F*****”. You get the picture.

The last straw to grasp is called a “left ventricular assist device” (LVAD). As we move along I will provide you with more details on the type of LVAD being considered and what is entailed to get one.

Have an opinion about death and dying? Let me hear from you. I may not get back to you right away because I am still in the business of living. Got things to do, you know.

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