there's twists and turns all over this place!

would you want to know if you were dying prematurely? that's the question I've been pondering... it's the reality I'm now in, as I have changed perspectives recently. but even sitting on the other side, here, I can't tell which I would prefer.

one note: I have at least decided I don't want my mother to know. ever. not the final prognosis, anyway. to do so would pain her every remaining day of her life... and mine.

maybe it'd be a clearer answer if there was a clearer outlook than "it could be weeks, it could be years." the vagueness of the future seems relatively unchanged, though the length of it has definitely been promised as "less."there are so many people terminally ill in the world, yet so many of them continue to live their lives, whether enjoying their last days or squandering them, they continue to live.

I will continue to live.

but in the meantime, I have to figure out how to grapple with the new knowledge that I may completely lose my mind before I die, or I may be mostly clearheaded as my body shuts down. there are more tests to figure out how far along I am, to get a better idea of how long I have. but I do want to know? do I really want to know any of this? all I know now is that I have mutant DNA that will eventually kill me. hardly the superpower I was hoping for.

I've decided it will be slightly less frightening, now that I know what kind of progression to expect. but to know that it is fatal, to be told that I'm dying, that is not something I was really expecting to have to deal with. for all I know, I have six months to live. maybe I have ten years. this isn't all that much more certain than what I knew before... but with a few extra tests, I can find out.

so what do I do?

-B