When Push Comes to Shove

I'm not religious but when push comes to shove, when I am facing something harder than Bread and Circus can handle and harder than One Day at a Time can handle, I make the best decision I can figure out how to make and accept that the road must rise up to meet me or I'm dead anyway.

I have some form of a condition that supposedly has a life expectancy of 36. I was diagnosed right before I turned 36 and then spent the rest of that year watching doctor's eyes pop out of their head and roll across the floor as I introduced myself as a "Newly diagnosed 36-year-old cystic fibrosis patient." It was somewhat gratifying after years of being treated like a hypochondriac trying to cadge more antibiotics becuase I guess they thought I LIKED having diarrhea as a side effect?

I dunno. It's not like antibiotics make you high.

I'm only one woman. I can only do as much as I can do.

Trying to plead with the universe or have Big Feels about my dire fate in hopes the universe notices and feels sorry for me or something -- this doesn't seem to accomplish anything.

I "should" have died at age 36 and, in fact, I nearly did die not long before I turned 36. The rest is gravy.

I don't usually say such things online because people think I exaggerate or want to interpret it as religious crap. Neither is true.

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