My eyes are watering

I was chopping onions for a nice spicy lentil daal for my friend Stephen and I, listening (my back was turned) to some reporter and interviewee on tv discussing the importance of health care proxy, advanced directive, financial planning, “because we just don’t know when a health event will occur”. My impulse was to march over and change the channel because like, not today, please…. I’ve been feeling so happy. But I didn’t. I stayed with it. I cried. (And not just from the onions).

I have been resisting the health care proxy thing since the inception of my terminal diagnosis. 

Fuck “terminal”, that isn’t how I feel. 

But how do I feel? 

For now, we’ll go with confused, sad, angry, happy, pissed, joyful, grateful, devastated, angsty, scared, vibrant, dull, and like I could eat tater tots for days.

I think about death often. As a person who spent much of her 20’s feeling passively suicidal, my thoughts about death are a bit different now (I will post about this next, there’s a draft I’m working on now). Will I fill out my healthcare proxy this week? Probably not. I’ve got some emotional roadblocks that must be worked around/through in order to do that. 

What I will say is this: when I’m on my way out, I know where I want to be, and who I want to be there. 

I want shamanism to be a part of my transition (Dr. Londorf and Dr. Graber). I want acupuncture to help with pain and discomfort (along with allopathic medicine). I want to die at home in my own bed in my own room with my own sounds and smells and familiar sights. I want the overture of Traviata played frequently, along with Berlioz’s “nuit detés”, and Debussy’s “en sourdine”, “Claire de lune”(vocal), and “nuit d’e toiles”, preferably all sung by Elly Ameling. I want good counselors in place for my closest loved ones. 

All of this from chopping onions 😉

Two tears fell into the simmering pan. 
This will be one authentic meal. 

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