Could This Be The End Of Me?

Nothing's definite, you understand, but tomorrow I have to go to the doctor; I suspect I may have diabetes. I have the symptoms; of course, it could be something else, so that's why I'm not saying for sure. But in the past few days I've had the tell-tale swelling and pain in the legs, along with some freckly discolouration, and that's an entirely new thing for me.

If it is diabetes, it's the day I've been dreading (and expecting) for years, but in a way it'll also be a kind of relief. It'll be a chance to get my affairs in order, at least. I've been meaning to do a will for a few years now, so at least this is my impetus. Plus it might explain a few things, such as why I've been so inexplicably irritable the past few years - I mean, even more than usual.

I still haven't decided what I'll do with everything: the cat, of course, will have to find a good home, and I have an awful lot of stuff to get rid of. Then there's the matter of the blogs... I don't know if I'll leave them up or take them down. Anyway, I'll probably still have a couple of years to decide before things get too bad. Who knows? This might be just the incentive I need to write at least one novel.

There's something very cathartic about facing a death sentence that actually has me feeling very calm, rather than panicking. I guess it's my way of exerting control; I'll put my affairs in order and then go. On my own timetable, when I decide, before I go blind or lose my legs.

I see my mother, gobbling pills like Ms. Pac-Man, and think about what a horrible life it must be. Three pills a day for the diabetes, another five pills a day for the side-effects from the diabetes medication... Plus the cost! Not much of a life at all, although it must be great for the shareholders of the various pharmaceutical companies involved.

Of course, I wasn't really having that great a life anyway; the idea of spending the last forty years of my life single and alone, getting sicker and sicker, doesn't exactly inspire in me the greatest joie de vivre. Try as I might the self-pity I have is too strong to overcome. I had such big dreams - real ambitions - but I made all the wrong choices, and in the end I guess the food I used to numb the pain may just prove the death of me.

And if it's not diabetes, well, dodging the bullet may just be the opportunity I need to make some significant changes in my life regarding diet and exercise, to make a real examination of my priorities and ensure that the life I'm leading is the life I want to lead.