Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

The hospital appointment for my heart stress test arrived yesterday, for March 2nd.

At first, I was confused as I wasn’t expecting one so soon. It wasn’t long before signs of panic turned up too. Would they find something but deem me too old for surgery? Or suggest that it could all be in my head? This is a popular choice, BTW. Or would they decide to carve me up to give me more old age years?

My Angina has been getting slowly worse, and I cannot do much. Stubborn doesn’t worry about that, though, and I am doing the important stuff, even if it takes me a while to get my breath back. There’s not much to choose between Anita health-wise and me, as she is sleeping much more these days. I often wonder who will go first.

I try not to think about dying, probably in case I put the idea into the ether. Commonly called pushing my luck. I think we are supposed to be scared of dying, but I haven’t been scared of much in my life. There have been a few things that should have given me pause, but I never worry about dying, despite coming close a few times.

In the past, when life became unbearable, I often wished I could simply fall asleep and never wake up again. This never happened, of course.  This taught me to find solutions and find them fast, not to prolong the agony.

Of course, there have been one or two monumentally bad and sad times when I couldn’t wriggle out of a situation or avoid the problem. I wanted a magical spell to banish all the suffering and misery.

Times that I would love to change or make amends for, even now.

Times that could possibly be considered bad enough to send me to that other place when I finally shuffle off this mortal coil.

That, hopefully, won’t be for a while yet…