mental blunder

I find myself stoic, my face and my attitude even my clothing washed out and not worth a comment and this must be, I suppose and believe, from my Monday visit to the physician. I walked in stoic, sat there stoic and left stoic and have remained...stoic. And this emotional stance is a different one for me that I am not too fond off, often scaring me and testing my mental challenge of handling a terminal illness.

I have breathed away many fires and my breath is sore and no amount of lemon drops I find soothing on my throat. Food that I once enjoyed still looks good but my palette has lost interest in the taste, my memory providing me a serving. My weight remains constant and then it slides and this is simply the nature of the internal organs battling. And now that the kidneys have become prime target and the lungs find the routine of a simple in and out tiresome, I am forced to rest more.

My mental state can contribute to a downfall of significance and this I am aware of and pay close attention to from a distance as often time the thought itself is too bothersome to concentrate on.

I find now more than before an important time to concentrate on upcoming travel and trying to maintain some type of normal anything to cling to as hope since the medical community has none to offer yesterday, today and I wait for a tomorrow, living primarily without fear as I shut down and refuse to focus on that which ails me the most and those thoughts that are too surreal for me to acknowledge as fact.

I will travel again and I will travel soon and I will be asked, kindly I hope, to stop traveling before I am ready but this I knew and often figured once I saw the word terminal associated directly and only with my name.