COVID-19 and Me
Mar. 10th, 2020 05:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Sometime in the very near future,
kshandra and I will sit down with Legal Zoom and make out my will, along with a durable power of attorney and - after a long discussion - my end of life instructions. Because I am in the 10-ring for COVID fatalities. I'm over 50, have a poor immune system, and have a long history of respiratory issues. This IS the bullet with my name on it.
Don't worry, I'm not sick. The worst I'm dealing with is sinus irritation from pollen and my guts attempting to summon demons. At least that what it sounds like most days. But I have to face the hard facts. Surviving Stage IV-B Hodgkin's Lymphoma is all well and good, but that can and the fight leaves you badly listing and taking on water. Way back when, just around the time I finished chemotherapy, Kirsten was told I could expect to live 20 years, then people like me start falling prey to other cancers, organ failure, and infections. So we should have done this years ago, especially after my stroke, but you know, whistling past the graveyard and all that.
It's not like I have a complex estate to deal with. No home or real property. Kirsten gets it all, except for the gaming stuff, which will be handed off to various nieces (my ultimate revenge on my younger sister for cutting me out of her life: dumping all my D&D books on the Niece of Last Resort!) If they don't want it, donate it or sell it. The same goes for the books she doesn't want, most of them will go to the Santa Clara Library for either loan or to be sold in the bookstore or the regular book sales.
As for my body? Dump this damn thing in a ditch somewhere. I'll be done with it, traitorous bag of meat!
The really hard part is going to be crafting my end of life wishes. Obviously, if I'm in a vegetative state (more than usual) and being kept alive by machines, frag me. I've already departed to have some stern words with the Manager over Game 6 of the 2002 World Series. If there's still brain activity going on at a deep level, the question is how likely is a recovery, and how far will I come back? I mean, I'd accept spending my last year bedridden and blind so long as I could enjoy music and baseball on the radio, and be able to somehow communicate that I was still there and wanted to throttle our closer. The same goes for still being able to read if all I have left is sight. Take everything away, and I'll show myself out.
Here's hoping these documents won't be needed anytime soon, but at this point, we can't put it off anymore.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Don't worry, I'm not sick. The worst I'm dealing with is sinus irritation from pollen and my guts attempting to summon demons. At least that what it sounds like most days. But I have to face the hard facts. Surviving Stage IV-B Hodgkin's Lymphoma is all well and good, but that can and the fight leaves you badly listing and taking on water. Way back when, just around the time I finished chemotherapy, Kirsten was told I could expect to live 20 years, then people like me start falling prey to other cancers, organ failure, and infections. So we should have done this years ago, especially after my stroke, but you know, whistling past the graveyard and all that.
It's not like I have a complex estate to deal with. No home or real property. Kirsten gets it all, except for the gaming stuff, which will be handed off to various nieces (my ultimate revenge on my younger sister for cutting me out of her life: dumping all my D&D books on the Niece of Last Resort!) If they don't want it, donate it or sell it. The same goes for the books she doesn't want, most of them will go to the Santa Clara Library for either loan or to be sold in the bookstore or the regular book sales.
As for my body? Dump this damn thing in a ditch somewhere. I'll be done with it, traitorous bag of meat!
The really hard part is going to be crafting my end of life wishes. Obviously, if I'm in a vegetative state (more than usual) and being kept alive by machines, frag me. I've already departed to have some stern words with the Manager over Game 6 of the 2002 World Series. If there's still brain activity going on at a deep level, the question is how likely is a recovery, and how far will I come back? I mean, I'd accept spending my last year bedridden and blind so long as I could enjoy music and baseball on the radio, and be able to somehow communicate that I was still there and wanted to throttle our closer. The same goes for still being able to read if all I have left is sight. Take everything away, and I'll show myself out.
Here's hoping these documents won't be needed anytime soon, but at this point, we can't put it off anymore.
no subject
Date: 11 Mar 2020 04:47 (UTC)Oh, I'm a regular reader of Kshandra.
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Date: 11 Mar 2020 17:48 (UTC)no subject
Date: 12 Mar 2020 04:36 (UTC)no subject
Date: 12 Mar 2020 12:09 (UTC)