Living alone with FTD is so hard. Living with someone or a caregiver would be impossible.
Was talking to my friend Marc last week. I've no Power of Attorney, no will or end of life plans. No list of people to be contacted, no death plans. My life and death is just one big FTD fucking mess. Don't have shit organized. Trying, but have been trying for years. Just can't accomplish shit. Screwed up my son's ticket to come visit last week. Booked him to come in October instead of now. Corrected it except the the additional ticket is still charged. Guess I need to go FTD some asses. Received a comforting letter from a friend saying everyone screws up plane tickets. Not me. Why not me. This is Howard Glick who use to fly 120 flights a year, 200+ nights in hotels, car rentals and business dinners planned both domestic and foreign. My 17 year career and I booked every flight, room etc. Guess what? This was just my commute to work. This was without my demanding job. Now I can't even book ONE fucking flight without FTDing it.
Is it death with dignity or life with dignity? Haven't a clue. Can't remember or figure out aphorism's anymore. Just another loss to FTD. FTD is a universal fuck. Not only do you get stripped away of all that's good and wholesome in your life, your family and loved ones get robbed as well. It's a one way street that leads to Hotel California or assisted living before your time, more misery and then death. Excuse me for being the purveyor of doom, but this FTD we're talking about, not flufferfoot.
So what's precipitated my thoughts of checking out of this glorious life? Is it the cacophony of life's missteps in the last 10 years. Is it because I'm beat to shit by life, exhausted and am looking for the long rest that accommodates death. Anyone in the unfortunate world of FTD is beat to crap. Patients, caregivers and family members are rocked and rolled. Everyone else gets to somehow sigh, breathe and try to put there lives back together. We become worm food.
I've a ton of symptoms, issues but they like awareness of FTD keep slip sliding away. Yes, in 3 years since diagnosis I've beat Cancer and Heart disease. FTD, well it's stealing from me blindly like everyone else with the disease. Three months after FTD I was told I had prostate cancer. at 53 my choices were radiation seeding, slice and dice or robotic surgery. My only care and question was, "What will give me the best chance of having sex again and how long will it take."? Cancer, big deal. Can only deal with one terminal illness at a time. Sex, well can't very well deal with the FTD hypersexual symptoms that plagues me with a Cancer/ FTD crossover. 2 days after prostate surgery and removal was at Starbucks blogging with my catheter wagging like dog leash. Got past that and was having sex months months after it was robotically removed. Next up, heart. Went to the Cardiologist alone and he went over some stuff. Hadn't a clue what was going on. All I knew is I showed up at Columbia in NYC the next morning. They looked at me cross-eyed that I was alone and really hadn't a clue what was going on. Next thing I knew I was on slab having 3 stents and other stuff done. The surgeon did watch the 'Howard's Brain" trailer and we did discuss it the next day. Did my 2 cents for FTD awareness. Friends were shocked. Big deal, they didn't even want me to leave the hospital since I was alone. Told them I'd take a cab. Right, took a bus. Was back at Starbucks a day later doing my FTD blogging.
So where am I going with all this. I've absolutely no fucking idea. I'm sitting here at Starbucks pretty fried at 8:40am and not a clue to what I'm writing. Totally lost. To tired to go over what I've written and figure out what I'm writing about. My day is over and it's a Saturday. Usually I don't write on Saturday. Saturday is date night. I get together with Terri and every Saturday night is what I consider our first date. I gear myself up no matter what. By gearing myself up doesn't mean I'm not an FTD mess. Am lucky that Terri has patience with me. I try my best, but though Howard rules, my unruly sidekick FTD goes from hanging out to taking over. Time to checkout of Starbucks. Hands in pain, I'm in space and life is beautiful. Why? I got out and did something purposeful. The bane of my existence isn't me, it's FTD and I'm kicking it ass.
Now it's a couple of days later after the above. Still feeling beat up by life. Not sorry for myself, just beat up. Am lucky that a generous person bought my kids tickets plane tickets to see me. My son will be coming next week. Have seen my kids 3 times in 3 years. FTD bankrupted me like it does many others. Want to take my son to a baseball game, but so confused as to how to buy and if I can afford tickets for us. Went to Costco yesterday, they sell Arizona Diamondbacks tickets. Put a few things in the wagon, got confused, overstimulated and overwhelmed and walked out leaving the wagon behind. I probably do that 80% of the time wherever I go. So tired of this life. Have taken my son once in his life to a baseball game. That was in NY a couple of years ago. Had a choice between two games. Checked the weather and found tomorrows game was 75 degrees with a 30% chance of thundershowers. The day after clear and 80 degrees. Both were night games. Of course having FTD and being blessed with impeccable reasoning and judgement I chose the cooler night with chance of thundershowers instead of clear weather. Players never made it onto to field. We laughed and had a bit of fun. We sat there for an hour or so in the pouring rain before the game was called a rainout can cancelled. We were also in a 95% empty stadium. Now I'm living in the desert so I don't have to worry rain, but making even little decisions or trying to organize anything are crippling tasks. Not sure if we'll make it to a game next week. I did check and Arizona is playing the NY Mets. It would be ironical to see the mets after being at Shea Stadium for the rainout.
Went to a Groupon Pizza/Italian restaurant with Terri last Saturday. We couldn't sit outside because they had a wedding party complete with tuxes and a priest that booked the outside. I wasn't a happy camper. We sat a the bar with annoying rap music now waiting for our pizza to go. Couldn't take it so we sat outside waiting for the pizza. Some wedding party girl all bush eyed in a wedding mesmerized trance came to us with a tray with shot glasses of bubbles or something ridiculous like that. She asked if we wanted to toast the bride and groom. "Fuck them" I said. Her face instantly turned to horror. Couldn't give a shit that I said it then and couldn't care less now.
Just a day in the life of this FTD'er. What happened to Howard Glick and where has he gone. Truly tired of this shit that's FTD and me. People tell me I'm the most tenacious person they've ever met. Been hearing it for as long as I can remember. I will keep fighting to the bitter end, but I am beat to shit. Guess someday I'll die. Can't wait. I need the fucking rest. I'm also so sick of these fucking headaches!!
Was going to get a haircut this morning. Starting to look like a wild man, but I blogged. To tired to drive and I'm totally out of it now. Want to leave my Starbucks fiefdom, but drained. 10am here an I'll head home soon as I can move. Writing this gets harder and harder. Not even sure how I do it anymore. I'll get home which is 1/4 of a mile and won't leave my apt. till tomorrow when I start all over again here at Starbucks. Not even sure why I write this shit anymore.