A few weeks ago I had bloodwork and an EKG with stress at my GP’s behest…to think I was worried about the EKG. Spoiler alert: the motherfucking bloodwork’s shit all over my life.
My EKG may have said my heart was healthy, but my blood work revealed something much, much more terrifying:
Anemia from internal bleeding. Which means either an ulcer or a tumor. I am shitting my pants.
There’s a chance I’m dying and if so I’m EXTREMELY relieved I’m no longer with my unsympathetic cunt of an ex.
Given that there’s a better-than-average chance that I have my guts chock-full-O’-Tumescent-Death, I think I’ll treat myself to rum tonight.
Whether, as it was put to me, “Either an ulcer or a tumor,” one thing is now abundantly clear to me: I am facing this one, utterly alone.
As much as I want to write a “Legacy” novel, and Project-TCIP may be it, the fact remains I also feel compelled to finish #TheOmniverse.
IDK if I have enough time ahead of me to do it & it looks like my life will end with me in obscurity, never knowing if I succeeded.
I don’t even know if I’m capable of #Writing At this point; all I can think about is the likelihood my children may grow up without a father.
…and a recent completely cold, unsympathetic conversation with my ex-wife, and the lack of response from my few remaining friends, the following has become abundantly, terrifyingly clear to me.
I AM UTTERLY ALONE IN THIS.
I am terrified.