The Pit Crew

Why do I get to survive and, relatively speaking – within this crazy-ass incurable NF2 world – thrive, while bright spots of sunshine and goodness like Michie O’Day and Felicity Lingle die?

As you may have noticed, I’ve fallen into the Survivor Guilt portion of our program.

I’m sure I’ve said this before and this is the absolute truth of it all – if not for Ten, Jen, and Oni, I’d be dead or in some crap nursing home and, most assuredly, would have been before the end of 2021.

Real life, in case you missed the newsflash, isn’t like the movies. You know, where John Wick takes blow after blow, gets shot, falls down zillions of flights of stairs, gets up and fights back or escapes on fleet feet. I don't have a John Wickian constitution – total bummer. I KNOW.

I know that, at my current health level, I could take care of myself if I had to but it would be a LOT of work and I’d need to move to an assisted living type apartment. Those are pricey as fuck though. Maybe just a regular apartment would be fine but I’d need one within a block or two of the T (the train/trolley line). I can’t drive anymore so I’d be on public transportation for all my doc appointments.

Whether on my own or in assisted living life would be a LOT more expensive, a ton of effort, and really lonely without Jen, Ten, and Oni.

Now I can focus on blogging, exercising (and feeling guilty about not working out enough), staying on top of my symptoms and in contact with my docs, making some art, reading, and, of peak importance, Cake appreciation time. Oh yeah, there’s also all that important time that I spend staring off into space pondering such world shaking concepts like:

• Do salmon dream?
• How long would it take for an abandoned golf course to revert to a natural state? How long before it turns into a field filled with wildflowers, bees, and bunnies?
• Are Republicans at all capable of self-awareness?
• Do orcas laugh? Do they bust a gut when they sink those yachts?

Our good boy Cake earns his keep by catching mice and looking tremendously handsome. Me? I’m more or less ornamental. Luckily, at this point, I’m still self-cleaning. No need to dust.

IF I was on my own, I’d have to spend most, if not all, of my time doing basic upkeep shit. What would take a healthy person no real time at all, might take me a day and I’d need serious naps afterward too. Laundry? Dishes? Scrubbing the loo? Vacuuming? Dusting? We can completely forget about cleaning the baseboards, high dusting, and windows. My balance is just not up to the task.  

Mind you, this might well eliminate the need for all those pesky PT exercises. I mean, wouldn’t performing all these chores amount to the same thing? I’d just need to add in some cardio and *BAM* I’m good. 

Okay, so there’s an upside. Nah, I WAY prefer having my family here. Cake may earn his board by slaying mousies and I don’t BUT at least Ten doesn’t have to clean a second, larger litter box.

Huh? Eh?! That’s something…RIGHT!?