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Wednesday, 01/16/2008 - 11:32 p.m.

Dear DC and the Boy,

I love you two dinks more than I ever thought my selfish ass could love anyone. You two are the first two people I talk to when I get up and the last two people I talk to before I go to bed. That's why this is so important to say.

We did an operation today on a patient who is eat up with cancer - in his bones, guts, lungs, body walls. *Every* fuckin' where. He's going to die regardless of what else happens and has a DNR. He's semi-comatose though and his wife, speaking on his behalf, demanded today's surgery. In addition to the bladder catheter, the chemo catheter, and the feeding tube, he now has 2 gigantic chest tubes that aren't going to make a damn bit of difference.

Just let me die, OK? No heroic measures, no life support, no feeding tubes, no chest tubes. If I'm already wasting away, the last goddamn thing I want is surgery that's not going to do any good. I don't care if I'm 35 or 85...let me die.

The Boy tells me at least once a month that he waited his whole life for me. DC tells me at least once a week he would die without me. You both tell me every day how much you love me. I have some idea of how hard it will be on you two when I die/am dying. However, at that point, it won't be about you two. It will be about letting me go with dignity, as painlessly as possible.

No heroic measures, no feeding tubes, no hanging on in a vegetable state. When it's time, let me go. The love part will never change, even in death.



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