For an explanation about Geoffrey, click here.

Wed. 9 Jan 1991

Omnicus delivered more meds today—the guy was real friendly and talkative. They can only deliver a 2 day supply because whatever it is I’m taking doesn’t store very well. I asked him how long people have been able to do I.V.’s at home. He said the idea is about 10 years old—but people like me have been doing it for about 3 years. “People like me” referring to those who wish to die at home as opposed to dying in the hospital. This is the third time someone has referred to me as ready to die. I just can’t get used to the sound of it.

I think I’d feel better if I could see or feel what it is that’s killing me. Maybe that way I could tell if I’m getting better or worse. Do I have more or less time? I think I’d like to know how much time I have—but could I handle it if I knew it? I feel like I should be doing something “special” with my time now—but I feel too tired and weak to do much of anything. I guess the satisfaction comes from how we live our entire lives, not just the last portion.

The worst feeling is that all my plans are at an end. I keep wondering if I’ll ever get to cut the front lawn again. Should I bother to plant flowers this spring—if I make it that long? If I do, will I get to see them bloom? If you can’t plan for next year, what do you do? I’m sitting here by myself in a restaurant surrounded by 20 or 30 people and I know they all have some kind of plans, just like I used to.

I’ve got to stop feeling sorry for myself and use my remaining time for some good purpose—not thinking about my own death.