Weak but alive
I am lying in my bedroom in my friend’s house in suburban Main Line Pennslyvania, and outside the picture window is a small brown hill that looks like a California hill. I am extremely weak. I don’t know whether the weakness comes from the illness, or from the radiation treatment, which started yesterday, or from lack of sleep due to steroids that I have been taking to reduce the swelling in the brain. I hope and assume that I will get stronger than this, but if not, I won’t be able to do much of anything from now on, none of the projects I need to complete before the end.
While I am extremely weak, at the moment I am not miserable. There is a little core of happiness in my chest, of the pleasure of being alive. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to make me feel that I am alive and not just suffering.