and that end, if it is not already here, is coming soon. 😒
i am spending a couple weeks staying with friends near where we used to live, in auburn. upon my return, it is very likely that we’re going to install an ADU next to the house, which will become my default space. that way i will have access to the house and garage, when i need to feed the cat, use my workshop, fill incense orders, and tend to my nursery, but i will also have a separate space where i can sleep, take a shower, change clothes, cook food, and suchlike, and be completely separate from the main part of the house if i want to be… or if monique has a new lover in the house…
although, at this point, i’m not sure i could handle even being in a separate, private space NEXT TO a house that contained monique and somebody else who is making love with her. 😒
one thing at a time… 😒 baby steps… 😒
oh, also, i met with the death doula today, and i now have a shiny, new, officially notarized copy of an Advance Health Care Directive (visible in the black bar on the left hand side of the screen, under the picture of Joe Btfsplk), which i intend to take with me to my doctor’s appointment on september 22nd, to wave in his face and say “hah hah! i’ve already got one, and there’s nothing you can do about it!”… and then, probably, spend the rest of my doctor’s visit playing with my pocket full of weird noises, because, apparently, he is amused by such things…
i have made an appointment, next week, with a “death doula” (who is also a notary public) to make an “Advance Care Directive”, so that, when something awful happens, there will be less confusion around what to do with me…
and it will be my GREAT PLEASURE to walk into the appointment with the doctor, next month, and say “hah! you thought you were going to stop me, but it’s already in place, and there is nothing you can do about it!” 😛
moe and i met online in approximately 1994-95 or thereabouts; we met IRL on new years/saint fred’s birthday, 1996-1997 (sleeping together by the middle of january); and we got married on june 21st, 1998.
in 2003, when i was 43 years old, i experienced a brain injury — a burst cerebral arteriovenous malformation — which kills 50% of the people who have it. if i had had a DNR on file, at the time, they would have allowed me to die. because they did not, moe rushed me to the hospital, and i experienced 11 hours of brain surgery two days later. when i regained consciousness, eight days after that, the nurses told me that i had a brain injury and i was going to have to spend THE REST OF MY LIFE recovering from it. the FIRST THING I SAID was “why didn’t you let me die?”
EVEN THEN i wasn’t completely sold on the idea of being alive! 😒
when i got home from OCF this year, i figured it was time to make sure that, if something awful happens in the future (being 66 years old gets me thinking about these things, you know?), if i had a DNR on file, everybody would be a lot more secure. so, with moe’s blessing, i made an appointment with my doctor to get the papers in order.
961206 propellerheads poster — moe was supposed to come to this party, but she wasn’t able to, so i invited her to new years/saint fred’s birthday instead
at the end of july, this year (2026), moe told me that she is now a lesbian, and no longer wants to have sex with me. this was (and continues to be) quite a large shock, and my mood and anxiety have not been the best the past few weeks. however, when the time came for me to fill out the intake papers for my doctor’s appointment (remember that?), two of the forms were questionnaires about my mood and anxiety, and i filled them out honestly, with information from the past couple of weeks… which, apparently, alarmed enough of the right people that they emailed me, asking if i was okay, and offering me resources if i was really going to kill myself — something which i have said, repeatedly, over the past couple of weeks, but it was all hyperbole, because i was (and am) in such shock… I AM NOT GOING TO KILL MYSELF, regardless of how much i feel like it. i said it, that is true, but no one should believe that it is true, because IT IS NOT!!
i went to my doctor’s appointment, yesterday, and was questioned up and down about my mood and anxiety, the reasons why i am in such “bad shape” — the doctor repeatedly said that she was “alarmed” and “concerned” — and my reasoning for wanting a DNR at this time. she said it was “suspicious”, and refused to sign the papers until i had seen ANOTHER doctor, and gotten him to sign off on it. then she would think about it…
so, i’ve got another appointment, with ANOTHER doctor — WHO I HAVE NEVER MET!! — in A MONTH, and if i can get him to sign off on it, my doctor will THINK ABOUT giving me a DNR… 😒
i mentioned this to the coach of my neuro-support circus class, who said that she has a friend who is a death doula, and a notary, and she should be able to help me bypass this whole shenanigan… it would be really funny if i went to this new doctor’s appointment, in a month, with a signed and notarized copy of a DNR, and laughed in his face.
