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.
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