Apparently, it costs well over a third of a million dollars to kill a man you already know is about to die. Seriously. When I checked the mail today and opened the doctor bill for his execution, I was floored. I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. How could anyone like me owe anyone that kind of dough? Further, how could thirty six hours in the hospital cost so much? It truly speaks to the greed of big pharma and the medical industry, as a whole, in the United States of America.
I feel as though I’ve been through so much in the last five years that I’m almost numb to situations like this. I’ve already lost everything, except the small homestead and bit of land we had. I feel naked in the face of MORE. I have the feeling that I’m standing before a giant wave about to crash, yet I’m calm. So many waves have come my way…they mean little to me anymore. My husband, as much of a dickhead as he was, is dead and gone. Dead. It’s a done deal. Financially, we were fucked the minute Obama took his first oath of office. We had savings to get through the first term, or most of it, at least. As the oil industry took one hit after another via an out of control EPA, material things began to disappear until, finally, it was all gone. House, vehicle…everything. Half of that time, personal issues kept pounding away at the proverbial shore. We finally see a ray of light, he dies, now I owe a hideous amount of money to a bunch of killers. Wow. Really?
Sometimes, I do wonder what the last straw will be. Since I was a child, I’ve fought for everything that’s meant anything to me. Nothing has come easy. Not one fucking thing. I’ve been through shit that would make most people blow their fucking head off. But I’m still here and I don’t know why. My kids are grown, they don’t need me. It’s not as if anyone would really miss my physical presence. I just keep on, though. Because I have this twisted need to see how the story ends. That’s it. That’s the whole reason, right there. I’m not even sure what story. Something just always tells me, when I’m at the point of putting a hole in my head, that there is something about to happen that I just have to witness.
We live in a large world full of wonder and miracles and blessings and curses. Animals that have yet to be discovered. Creatures of legend that I just know are lurking just beyond the treeline. There are people and cultures and meanings of life that I haven’t even had a chance to touch on yet in my own life. And I may never know about every little thing. But, I do know that every little thing exists and it is all here for a reason and, if I leave a moment too soon, I might miss the big answer of it all. Who could leave a world like that? What if I’m the answer? OMG! That would be some shit! lol! But, what if YOU are the answer and I missed you, somehow? What if there is a beauty that you offer this world that my heart won’t get a chance to feel because I threw my life away? Yes, I’m selfish. No, I do not fear Death in any way. Perhaps my heart is simply too involved in wondering and dreaming to let you go…to let any of this place go…until God picks me, by hand, and takes me home.
Tomorrow, I will make appointments. I’ll gather important papers and such and I’ll conduct the business that needs to be taken care of. I will do what needs to be done, just l always do. I’ll be frustrated by the jackoffery of 90% of the goings on, but I will still participate until it’s finished. Eventually, this endless death of his will come to a close and I can think of other things. Day 40, post death, has been a mixed bag, to say the least.