What's the difference between melodrama and drama? According to the Oxford Pocket American Dictionary, melodrama is "a dramatic piece with exaggerated characters and exciting events intended to appeal to the emotions." Also, it is "language, behavior, or an occurrence suggestive of this." And drama, well that's just "an exciting or emotional event, set of circumstances, etc." So I don't know if this is drama or melodrama, this stuff I'm about to say.
I often wonder what it would be like to be given a life expectancy. As in, "Portia, you have four weeks to live." You notice that these life expectancies are never right -- there is always some uncertainty about how long you'll last. But you have some idea that you're gonna go, and they may or may not be able to do anything to make you last longer or be more comfortable while you're fading out. So if this happens to you, you can make some decisions. It's kind of like winning the lottery -- no one faults you for quitting your job and traveling around the world. Or doing whatever irresponsible stuff you want to do. After all, you're dying.
So I have this incurable degenerative brain disease. When they told me I had it, they said, "it won't affect your life expectancy." And right after that, the nice young doctor cried. And then the nurse handed us a sheet of paper that informed us that most people eventually end up in wheelchairs and/or nursing homes. And expect your bladder and bowel control to go soon. Oh and your mind? It's probably going to go too. You'll probably start stuttering and shaking and losing control of your limbs. The next thing I knew, I was injecting myself three times a week with some scary and mysterious drug. They have no idea what these drugs do or how they work, but supposedly, they can help slow the inevitable decline of your brain and body.
This sucks, for a number of reasons, but right now what sucks the most is that it's not bad enough. I seem relatively normal. I'm probably convincing most of the people I interact with on a daily basis that there is nothing wrong with me, except that I mumble and wear weird clothes. (The weird clothes are just me, not my diseased brain.) So I can't quit my job (whether I'd want to or not) and live like I only have four weeks to go, because I might have 20 decent years, and it would be lame to have to pay off the shopping spree that I would engage in if I knew I only had four weeks to live.
I can imagine how I'd react to being told I had four weeks, four months, or four years. But I have no idea how to deal with this. For now I'm just pretending that I'm not a time bomb, that I will be one of those lucky people who is still ambulating at 70. But if I can't walk in two years, I'm going to be really bummed that we didn't just forget about being responsible and saving for retirement (which is a joke since it's unlikely I'll be able to enjoy retirement anyway) and instead hike the rest of the Appalachian Trail. Or travel the world, get a PhD, or just go relax somewhere and spend time with Sean and Maple... whatever. Instead, I'll get to say, "I worked 50 hours a week and saved for retirement, like a good American!" Jesus.
I usually try to wrap up my stupid blog posts with a joke or some sarcastic comment, but I'm not sure how to end this. I wish I knew what to do.
