Dean, I'm enjoying your comments in this thread. You make me . I wish the overall thread topic had a different subject, but your outlook on life, and what could be the road to the end of life is more than interesting.

You are a bastard with a great sense of humor. I say that with much affection and

Oh and I hear you are bad ass as well. What more could a guy ask for.

This is one of the "deanisms" that make me
In return, I'll try to hold a shady spot for you. But dress lightly.

 

I love Christopher Hitchens...really miss his great articles in Vanity Fair.

 

I just saw this thread, and there isn't much for me to add except that its important for you to review your will with those who are close to you. By doing this you can try to eliminate any misunderstandings and conflicts after you're gone. As difficult as it is to sit down with those close to you and discuss the possibility that you might not be here, it is important that they understand your will and your wishes. It's not important that they know the amounts, it's just important that they know your intentions. Otherwise you are almost guaranteeing bad feelings after you're gone. Also it's very important that you review your will periodically just to be sure it says what you want it to say. All things change and your will should keep up with the changes.

Actually I'm hoping that you don't need any of this advice for a long, long time. I hope that you'll lick this thing. You're a tough old bastard and I suspect that you're going to give it a hell of a fight.

 

Along the lines of the good die young, I have a theory.
We all given a fixed amount of goodness and when we use it up, it's our time.

now a combative, old curmudgeon like dean; he's probably gonna live forever.

 

Not worth your time. Water over the bridge. Living well, or having lived well, is the best revenge.

I don't know you, haven't been here long enough, but I love your attitude. I agree that we came from nothing, and that we're going back to nothing, and that it's worse for those we leave behind than us.

I have the feeling you'll make the right choices.

Godspeed (so to speak).

Mike

 

No doubt you've researched the shit out of this but the thing I would focus on are emphysema statistics aren't reliable for individual people seeking their own life expectancy. You can look at the odds, probability, etc. but we are all unique. As you've said so eloquently you don't know how you made it this long. Hopefully, in 20 or 30 years you will be saying the same. You are a fighter by nature. If mind over matter works, as I totally believe it can, you be enjoying life in the Village for longer than you can imagine and scooting around in the Mini. There may be schools of fools running around wishing they had a Ferrari..... for them I have a License plate: O2BA4RE [oh to be a Ferrari] but personally, I like your choice. The beauty of having a soul mate is being able to share everything. As for sharing the situation with the rest of the family, I would only cross that bridge when you have to. Oh, and just for the record, as great as your sense of humor is you are no George Carlin!

 

Dave, Dave, Dave. Do try to keep up with the rest of the class. I never claimed to be George Carlin, nor ever claimed to possess even a small fraction of his inestimable talent, Rather a number of my students believe that I am one of the funniest professors they've ever had, particularly one in a field of study not well known for its humor or its entertainment value. Knowing that is something I take great pride and comfort in, for in spite of my numerous character flaws, I have succeeded in making a small but positive difference in the very tiny portion of the world In which I live.
And more importantly, I never claimed to have emphysema. I do not. I have Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis. A disease which is incurable, irreversible, and one hundred percent fatal. Much like life.
I won't bore everyone with the biology and biochemistry involved but here are the simple facts. Lung tissue is comprised of over forty different cell types; most of which are amitotic, meaning they are incapable of dividing and thereby making new copies of themselves. Nor are those cells, under most circumstances, capable of repairing themselves. Hence, lung transplantation is the only moderately successful treatment approach. A treatment that I won't even consider for myself. I refuse to compete with younger folks over the very limited number of donor lungs available for transplant.
Anyone following this thread is free to believe me or not, but I have no fear of dying. I've been there, done that, and bought the tee shirt. I much prefer to cease to exist than to live - for whatever few years a transplant may grant me - with the thought I've robbed some child of the opportunity to live a full life. No one knows better than I that I am no saint and that I possess a very long and varied list of character flaws. However, I don't believe selfishness and heartlessness rank among them.

 

That's not always true, thankfully. I watched my stepfather suffocate from emphysema. He was quite the brave man when it came to tormenting and belittling a seven year old kid, in the absence of any witnesses, of course. But not so much when it came to dying, or in dealing with that very same kid some forty years later, for that matter.

 

Since I seem to be on a roll with this thread, here's yet another update. I met with my new cardiologist yesterday to discuss the results of my echocardiogram and EKG. and I think I'm in love. She has a sense of humor every bit as twisted as my own, and eagerly and freely answers any and all of my questions. Not being thirty years younger, a lot better looking, rich, single, and the fact that she's married are the ONLY things stopping me from running off with her.

She also treats me like an adult. I hate it when medical doctors talk down to me like I'm a child. I have four degrees, three of which are in Biology. Read my file BEFORE talking to me, FFS. I don't need to be informed as to what a heart is, where it is, what it does, or how it works, you pompous, condescending twit. Sorry for the rant, but it is one of my pet peeves when dealing with all too many medical doctors.

To get back to my heart, it seems that in addition to having bad lungs, I have a heart problem that's compounding the breathing problem. My heart isn't contracting quite strongly enough, which causes a reduced stroke volume, which in turn results in less blood going to the lungs to unload Carbon dioxide and load up with Oxygen. So my blood tends to contain less O2 and more Carbon monoxide than it should. The doctor has put me on Cardizem and ordered a forty-eight hour Holter monitor. The upside is, I won't have to shower for the two days I'm wearing it. And between the Cardizem and the Xanax they've got me on now, I may have to go dig out my old "Iron Butterfly" album, my black light, and my Peter Max posters. I'm tunin' in, turnin' on, and droppin' out, man.

 

Perhaps for some and in some cases. If it was a trivial matter of some troll calling me a poopyhead, I wouldn't waste my time. There have been a few attention-starved, mendacious little trolls here over the years that once provided me with some amusement rather than any sense of annoyance. I simply ignore them these days. As you said, not worth my time.

But when someone deliberately, deceitfully, and without provocation attempts to upend my life, the lives of those I care about, steals my belongings, as well as those of some of my family members, and even goes so far as to attempt to turn my children against me, then I have to disagree. The best revenge is that which is carefully planned down to the tiniest of details and painstakingly executed to produce the maximum amount of damage possible, while remaining well within the limits of the law. Attaining the sense of accomplishment that provides me is well worth my time. And please excuse my arrogance, but revenge is one of my best talents, although seldom required. That's precisely why someone who hurts me or mine rarely does it more than once. For years there has been a long running joke among my friends about me that I am "just one bad day away from sociopathy". I'll leave the truth of that statement for others to determine, but I suspect the piece of filth who molested one of my daughters when she was a child would emphatically agree to its veracity.

Thank you, Mike. I must have missed your arrival here, so a belated welcome to you. Don't pay too much attention to these llong, wandering rants of mine. Every once in a while I get a bug up my arse and need to vent. I shut up eventually, honest.

There are some other very kind, caring, and sweet folks here dealing with their own issues that are every bit as serious as mine, and even more so in some cases. So I've gotten to unload, while at the same time letting others know they aren't alone. I'm just mouthier and more opinionated than they are, I guess. Good thing, too, or this place would be insufferable.