What it's like to be told you're terminally ill.

On being told "it's pretty far along", and the feelings and the thoughts and planning and all the crap that now I have to do. Come along with me if you want. It should be an interesting ride.

IF YOU WANT TO E-MAIL ME: CHEYENNECO@AOL.COM

I'm looking at everything as if I'm seeing it for the last time, which may well be true, and it gives me such appreciation for things I've taken for granted all my life. But looking at things for the last time allows me to see a lot of them for the first time, if that makes any sense.

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Sun Nov 22

Can’t sleep…

I really don’t want to be tested and see the doctors at the lung transplant center tomorrow. Good news would be it’s not gotten worse in three months. I don’t think it’ll be much worse but I still wish I wasn’t going until after the holidays, just in case it is.

Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it, and in a few days everything will be juuussstt fine. It usually takes me about that long to get my attitude screwed back on right.

If you don’t have a person to take along for company and support, I think you should be allowed to take your dog. Maybe I can get Jake certified as a service dog.