So, You are told that you are dying

Well, truth be told, we are all dying. We all know it and we all ignore it. Big deal, I'm dying or shall die one day. The fact that someone or some group of someones dare to put a date to it, changes the game.  I now have an expiration date only it's too vague to discuss.

When I ask someone or a group of someones to give me a better idea of what time is left, I get even more vague
answers
 and I have just gotten worn down.
 I don't ask anymore.

It is like trying to get diagnosed. You go to this doctor and that doctor and you explain and they believe that you know nothing about your own body. They nod and do what they want, spend your hard earned money on tests which find nothing.

You either run out of money, as I did often, or you run out of patience with the doctors and step away from their irritated looks of, " What do you want me to do then?" as you wander off mumbling, "Eat shit and die, maybe?" But, we are all civilized and it never gets to the point of speaking real words.

I  awoke on November 3, 2005 with the beginnings of hell inside my body. I wandered here and there from one doctor to another, one test to another and periodically gave up in either despair or poverty. I had no insurance. I turned into a whiner who was not allowed to whine. It can make you crazy. It did me.

When something was finally found, it was because I had gotten pneumonia in November of 2010 and been hospitalized with it in December. One chest x-ray later and I have an expiration date. Stage IV lung cancer.

Soooooooooooooooo, here we are and dying is not for sissies. First, my landlord decided, after nine years, to sell his house which I was renting. I had made no money and it just seemed easier, being weak and ill and at the mercy of those around me, to be moved into my mother's house. My things are in a storage shed.

I am in her 'bodega' and living out of boxes. I have not really moved in and cannot really move out. My biggest dog had a nervous breakdown over the whole move and changes and now I have to give her away. She and I are leaves in a wilderness riverbed. Tourists in drug cartel territory.

She may have an expiration date, too, if I cannot find someone to take her and love her as I have all these years.

And my mind turns to art work. I would like to make some money and maybe move out !?!?!?!? So far, these thoughts are meaningless clouds passing before my lazy hazy brain as I stare up at the sky and wonder....