Having a nice visit with a friend in the hospital recovering from a hip replacement operation and suddenly one of the visitors pipes up about a former co worker of hers who died of It.  Great.  Just what I need to hear about.  Totally ruined my day.  Maybe the whole week.  He died in a hospice.  Great.  Was clear of the disease for many years, then wham.  The greatest prayer remains to just not wake up in the morning.  Like Ann's dad.  Lunch,  then to couch for afternoon nap, and never wakes up.  I hate that God or the universe or fate is playing games with me, fucking with my mind, maybe waiting to torture me.  Why not just kill me.  Fuck I hate this.

Ka Ho'olaulea Polenekia Pakipika Mea Mokupuni

I ke-ia kakahiaka ua hele au i ka Ho'olaulea Polenekia Pakipika Mea Mokupuni.  Eia kekahi mau ki'i.

I got to crying this morning, crying for relief, that it is (or seems to be anyway) all over.  The horror is gone.  I may be OK.  How terrified I was, what a head fuck the diagnosis is.  Hate the body, just seething unremitting hate for being so evil, for fostering such an evil thing inside me.  Wanting nothing so much as to heart attack or stroke out in my sleep the way my dad did at age 35; once you're gone you're gone.  Its been a horror.  It is a huge unspeakable emotional relief to turn lose of it.  And I have heard of two guys who are doing very badly with it.  One actually, the other one is already gone.  Last Dr. appointment the radiation doctor said cholesterol would be a bigger problem for me than It.  Wow do I hope he is right.  Driving up the road to the place, I used to go up with pals just to surf, just for fun, a few hours of goofing around riding waves, and then for over a month to get cured of It, quite a change.  Haven't been in the water all summer and now summer is ending.  Much less energy with testosterone neutralized, rarely think of sex and don't lalahu or lea or pikoikoi, kind of terrified, it might mean testosterone and that might mean death and pain.  it lands on your spine my God.  Scans showed it nowhere on my bones, thats why they did the radiation, why I was a candidate.  And now J faces it.  Marginally better numbers than mine.  I could still be in trouble.  But signs are good.  To cry not for joy, not for horror or sadness, but for relief, this horrible horror lifted from my consciousness.  Still, you gotta go sometime.  Other than going to sleep & not waking up,  or a quick stroke, heart attack, or accident or maybe an execution or getting shot, not likely, passing is by nature unpleasant , every cell wired for self preservation.