Falling into this this morning. (No, grammar check, that repeated word was intentional..)

I’m awake waiting on a delivery that’ll let me keep working over the weekend. And forever.

I really was good trying to make sure I disconnected from work concerns while I was away.

I appreciate that I’m now in a position where I really can just step away. Completely.

There was a coworker on one of my calls the past few days talking about how he was planning to go deer hunting, and would be completely contact-free for about ten days.

Jealousness is not really bout the idea of shooting Bambi, but being completely in a different world for a few days.

Obviously, I’m not sure if or how I could do that.

a pig in a cage on antibiotics

Terror and Risk

Flashing back again to this.

1. Are you a risk-taker? Do you weigh the pros and cons or jump right in?

At this point, really not at all. There’s not many things where I push for a bigger payoff.

I really don’t think I’ll have much opportunity to really enjoy the benefits.

Eating a raw oyster might be about as I’m willing to go for.

Something that brings a small amount of pleasure is about what I’m doing at this point.

Take me to Waffle House, and I’m going to be content for a while.

2. “The most terrifying moment of my life was…”

Again, I’m pretty risk-averse. Getting back, as usual, to football. What I’m listening to right now had a longtime Iggles’ fan talking about news that the team had just released this guy.

I guess I would have been in Germany when he was drafted. The Saints were going to win it all behind Jim Everett.

That really doesn’t have anything to do with being terrified,. But the point is that I rarely put myself in situations where I would be terrified. Even when I had the physical ability to do something terrifying, I didn’t.

Figure out how fast I can make this car I’m driving go? Nah. I’ll pass. (Or get passed, depending on your perspective.)

Maybe that aversion has served me well. Maybe not. But does it really matter? I am going to die; life is a terminal condition. But I’m okay being in relative comfort for as many years as I have left.

I do appreciate the argument that doing something dangerous might get me killed quickly. And that might be particularly painful for a short time.

I can remember being on a camping trip with a doctor who said that when you go, massive heart attack probably isn’t bad. Yeah, it hurts really bad, but it’s pretty quick, and you’re just gone. That might be better than years of suffering from something else.

Oh well.

I know MS probably isn’t going to kill me. I’ve often said that I’m probably going to die of cardiovascular disease or cancer…just like everybody else.

But going slowly, I am confident that there can be some sort of medical intervention that might make it less painful.