May 30, 2002
The highs and lows of this month are slowly killing me. How do people live? It's a balancing act. But I've got weak ankles. (I can't even ice skate.) There must be a middle ground between being happily elated and downwardly immobile. I was feeling fine until Kip the doctor told me that my eyes got worse. How could that happen? I'm doing everything right. But maybe it's not about that. This is life. At home later, Doug asks "How are we going to die?" although we?re just beginning together. "We'll die together," I say. "Terrorists?" he asks. "Probably." Settled.