Depression Sucks

I went to my Primary Care Doctor the other day to let him know I had quit treatment. He already knew, all the medical groups up here are networked really well. So we talked about end of life stuff. Mostly when to not resuscitate me. There's a thing called a POLST, no idea what it stands for, but it's a green sheet of paper that spells out my diagnosis, and makes clear that I do not want to be resuscitated. It stays on my refrigerator, it's for any EMTs or other medical people that might be trying to save me. I had to call 911 for my mom the other day, she fell over an ottoman while playing with the cat and fractured a vertebra. One of the EMTs immediately checked for a POLST, kind of tripped me out, when the cancer center had me fill it out, I never really thought anyone would actually use it. Anyway, the doctor went into more detail about what I do and do not want; things like hydration, feeding tubes, etc. I just said no to everything. I asked him straight out, what's going to kill me? He said either a constricted airway or lack of health lung tissue. Either way the answer is suffocate. Suffocation was definitely in my top 3 ways I didn't want to die. I got vaccinated for bacterial pneumonia, shingles, and a couple of other things that would make dying even less fun. The woman that gave me the shot, nurse or PA, was really pretty. She was wearing hightop black Chucks. The majority of the female medical personal I've had to deal with have been really pretty, and tatted. The tech that prepped me for a lung biopsy was beautiful. Her left arm was a full sleeve. I don't really dig tats on women, but this one was done well. I swear 90 percent of the medical people are tatted.

I've got a peace sign branded on my forearm:

One of the nurses trying to find a vein to draw blood gave me shit about it, teasing of course, she had a fucking humming bird tatted behind her left ear. She was hot AF also. Why the fuck am I talking about tattoos? Fuck it. Since I left the doctors I've been really depressed. I mean, I have a good reason to be depressed, but having a reason makes it worse. Before I had cancer, when I got depressed I would just tell myself that I'm overthinking, that things weren't as bad as they felt. I can't do that with this shit. When I would worry about death I would always tell myself, 'it won't happen tonight'. Now it's almost tonight, and at the moment it's making me more sad than scared. I don't want to do anything, cuz everything seems pointless. If I was doing this alone I definitely would have painted the ceiling by now. I hate waiting for shit, I can remember being like 5, sitting outside the dressing rooms while my mom bought clothes, and thinking, 'When I get older I won't have to wait for anything'. I was way wrong about that, but I've hated waiting since I was at least 5. I think that's why my family didn't want me to use Death With Dignity, afraid I might check out a little too early. Which is valid...it's sort of why I wanted DWD, I'm scared of the dying part. If I can do it quick and painless, I'd rather take that route. I don't know how long before I start to notice problems. I have a PET scheduled sometime before October 1st. It will let me know what the progression is like. It's starting to sink in that I am really going to die. Soon, like, Christmas? Fuck I don't know. I'm taking Lorazapam for sleep. I asked the doctor if I would build up a tolerance, he said, 'ya, but you're dying, we'll just up the dose.' I like when the doctors are straight forward. A lot of the time they won't give me a direct answer, for whatever reason.

I feel like if I start crying I won't be able to stop. I hate crying..it doesn't help anything. It just hurts. Fuck it, I'm really happy weed is legal (here, at least), and I have enough money to smoke. An OZ for fifty bucks let's me smoke all I can. I guess that's my plan, smoke dope until I die. Literally.