Big Decisions

 In one of my many, many conversations with Dr. Shoja, I said to her, “I just hope that one day I don’t overhear someone say about me, ‘after his breakdown, it was all downhill.’” I saw that in Connie Tyrell after her stroke when I was a kid, but it was all round me. Very common was, “Once he started drinking, it was all downhill.” Lost his job. Lost her husband.

I dodged bullets: AIDS, heart attacks, 17 minutes at the mercy of a drug addicted madman with a knife who wanted money that I didn’t have. The wrath of God.

This breathing/energy problem has the sound of a clicking time bomb to me. It’s giving me an “enjoy what time is left” feeling. Every time I go outside to fetch wood from the shed—the shed being ten meters from my back door—I am exhausted and heaving by the time I drop the wood from my arms onto the hearth. How can I not feel my time is limited here.

If it’s time to move, I don’t want that to happen until Spring 2026. The complexity of the decision boggles my mind. I have three pets. And I don’t want to live life hearing people around me. Yet.

I met one of the realtors here. She seemed nice. I am going to think seriously about calling her to ask her what my house is worth, and then how I might best solve my dilemma of where to go. I hate the thought of moving, and I love this house passionately. But the key word in, “enjoy what time is left,” is ‘enjoy.’

I feel the upcoming meetings and tests will lead to a diagnosis that I will have to live with. I have a strong sense that this energy problem is not treatable. I don’t feel sad about it at all, but I am not looking forward to moving for the first time in my life.

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I’m off to Nanaimo this morning with Her Highness. I must renew my driver’s license and get some supplies for the pets. I hope to make it as quick a trip as I can and get back to Pinecone Park where I feel at my best. MY email service is down today; it’s always something.