I just got off the phone with John. He decided to call me tonight.
He’s very close.
He’s on morphine, now, to help his respiratory problems. The tumors are engulphing his lungs and they fill up with fluid.
The pain, he says, is also starting to really kick in. So the morphine is helping to ease that.
He can barely talk. He’s delusional…
His wheezing is more prominent than his actual voice. It’s difficult to talk to him like this. For me, that is.
I keep envisioning Earl Partridge lying in bed, not knowing if each breath will be his last.
What does one think when they see themselves at 21 years old…. rapidly dying?
What types of things run through your mind? What emotions can you feel? What can you *not* feel at a time like that?
It boggles me. Just as much as it does to think about the fact that this is really happening… it’s boggling.
There are so many idiots in the world. So many who deserve this. He’s the last person I know who should get this.
Sometimes I think the wiser you are, the greater chance you have of being wiped out early. It’s like God’s way of saying “You know too much, kid. Go away before you scare the rest of them.”