Saturday night, Prime and I had to hit my old Wal-Mart; there were a few things we needed to get. As always, we hit the self check outs once we were done and I happened to recognize the cashier running them. It was Dan, a guy who had been hired five years ago. We weren’t exactly close, but we did talk while we were in the breakroom together. The first thing I noticed? Dan was sporting a black eye. As Prime headed to the car, I stayed behind.

I asked Dan about the black eye. It was due to a biopsy of his eyelid. Apparently, he thought he had a stye. According to his doctor, it wasn’t.

Dan will get the results later this week. He’s already been through a bout of melanoma once. If it turns out to be nothing, great. If it turns out to be cancer, then he’s at peace with it. He said he won’t go through chemo or anything like that. He’s already taken care of his bucket list, so no regrets. As he put it, things have been good. If death wants him, he’s ready.

I don’t know how to feel about that.

Again, this is his decision. If he doesn’t want to go through chemo, he shouldn’t be forced to do so. It still bothers me, though. Probably because it hits too close to home.

I may be facing a decision like this. I know how I’ll react; I’m going to fight like hell. Even if the odds are not in my favor, I’ll still fight. I want to stay here, on this blue dot, for as long as possible and if it requires a drug cocktail that makes me feel like I’ve been hit by a Peterbilt, so effing be it. I want to live.

The day that stops being true scares me.

“Maybe this time tomorrow
The rain will cease to follow
And the mist will fade into one more today…”

About Silverwynde

I'm a Transformers fan, Pokémon player, Brewers fan and all-out general nerd. I rescue abandoned Golett, collect as many Bumblebee decoys and figures as I can find and I've attended every BotCon--official and non--since 1999. I'm also happily married to a fellow Transfan named Prime and we were both owned by a very intelligent half-Siamese cat, who crossed the Rainbow Bridge on June 16, 2018. We still miss him. But we're now the acting staff of a Maine Coon kitty named Lulu, who pretty much rules the house. Not that we're complaining about that.
This entry was posted in Bitter Truths, Grief, Walmart, Work and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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