I don’t even know if I have written about this before, but the brood, what is it brood x coming I am not entirely excited about. They are going to be everywhere and though I’ve never had a problem with a grasshopper before, these are going to be something else. I wondered how dogs would handle it, but then I realize the 17 year timeframe means that no dogs are still alive from the last time one of these events happened. I suppose I should be grateful to see it, given me being alive in 17 years for a second run is not going to happen.

I’ve been reading some stories about people going to see their parents in nursing homes after the past year not being totally there, and reading about some angry heart surgery patients who got put under and came out not the same. I’ll admit this makes me nervous, because, as I’ve said before, I’ve gotten so lucky with all of these events, coming out mostly okay except for maybe a little off symmetry on my face I JUST noticed a few months ago-maybe it’s from a new stroke, I have no idea because I always talk myself out of my neurological events when they happen–I get initially very scared, but I never do the things I should, you know, the blood testing to ensure I am the right thinness, mostly because I just want to be out of the fog as quickly as possible. I am mildly afraid I am going to get stuck there, trapped in a body that stops working with a brain going a mile a minute. I suppose it’s fucked up for me to say this, but let’s just say I hope anything that would leave me like that for more than a short period will take me out entirely.

The story I read about the daughter visiting her mother who was not all there–that’s just recementing my fear of someone letting me live half a life in a nursing home until my body totally gives out. One thing I’ve been proud of, this brain of mine—that getting closed off and starting to rot in a head like mine would be the WORST possible end. It makes me want to get grapefruit juice to accidentally ingest in a great quantity with a handful of heart meds–but, we’re not there yet and I still think I have 6-9 years left before I HAVE to kick the bucket.

I had my second shot the other day–so I am just a few weeks from being able to have that surgery emergency style OR with a plan, and at this point–I am leaning into putting it off as long as possible because, though I do have days where I am more tired than others, my brain is still all there, and I think I can think it off a few more months. We still want to move, and moving first would be a better plan than having this shit level me for a few months and then have to pack up again. We would love love love to move to cutie old town, but I am still not entirely unsure Europe wouldn’t be the best plan with all of the shit going on in this country. Plus, we basically have to win the lottery to afford anything in the zip code I want, and you know luck is only mine for being able to live long enough to suffer. I’m kidding, mostly. GIVE ME THE LOTTERY, UNIVERSE–I’ve been wanting to live on a super populated street and neighborhood with shops and good stuff, the flutter of life all around me, and Jersey City was as close as I got (I lived only a few blocks away)–except that month or so I lived on Stanton Street in NYC, that was almost close. GIVE ME THE LOTTERY!!!! I want pretty pretty on my way out.