This is official and must not be forgotten: I am a fucking drama queen.
I am an emotional wreck and telling an emotional wreck that he might have Parkinson’s is not a good idea. I’m putting all thoughts of that disease behind me. I will go to see the neurologist if requested to do so, of course, but I am certain he will say my speech problem is not caused by a pathogen.
As for my heart: Dr. Pimstone confirms that I have some kind of arrhythmia (I’ve already forgotten the impossibly complex name) but he has ruled out weak blood flow to my brain as a cause of my speech problem. He says a pacemaker is possible in my future but I don’t need it now.
So Drama Queen is going back to living life.
I have to stay home today to wait for a delivery but tonight I am having drinks and dinner with Dianne. Tomorrow I see Dr. Shoja. Thursday night I have drinks and dinner with Robin and Friday I am going to the Museum of Vancouver with Cathy. It’s going to be a good week. I’m glad to have social events with friends who accept my condition. They are to-die-for precious.
And here comes the sports dress. I have to get white tissue paper to make the baseballs I need for the sports dress. I’ll get that either today or tomorrow. I have to wait here at home today for the flocking to arrive that I’ll use to make the tennis balls. (If I miss the delivery I have to go to Richmond to get it. Fucking UPS.) The Ping Pong balls are taking forever to get here.
I have to make the papier maché soccer, footballs and basketballs. That is going to be really messy. This is dress number eight. I only have four more and the script to go to finish my project.