Back at the vigil, thank Goodness! Away for way toooo long.
High winds, wind chill 31 going down to 24 by morning. Brrrrr.
They haven't told me how long I have with the cancer. With the chemo - 50% chance of 5 more years. Without? Well, quite a bit less, I'll guess. And chemo looks quite out of the question because the vigil cannot stop, not now.
I went to the hospital immediately that I arrived in DC to cancel the tests and treatment that was scheduled. I first, however, met with a Patient Navigator, a fellow Christ-ian, that is not at all pleased with the prospects of me departing in body, quite so soon. I made clear to her that I am not refusing chemo. But, I'm unable to depart from the vigil.
There may be a way. Enough of a sliver of a chance that I haven't yet cancelled the tests and treatment meeting, as I'd planned. There is within 4 blocks of the vigil a set-aside portion of a much larger homeless shelter that is called the "infirmary." It may be that unlike shelters, it is sufficiently less restrictive that I could meet the legal requirements of the hospital, being sheltered, and still maintain the vigil. It would be pretty miserable, chemo, without support, but that is of no consequence. Christ-mass on Tuesday will slow down the ability to evaluate this option, but by mid to late week things should be clearer.
I have zero aversion to trading 3 to 20 years of my life for the next 6 month, to keep my body in the way, now, in these most precious, decisive, consequential days in all human history, here in front of the Embassy, the poster child for our criminally insane pursuit of future eradicating fossil fuels.
But I am NEVER called to be casual with my life, nor anyone elses. So this unexpected, last option, as unlikely as it is, will be given it's due consideration.
With much Joy and Relief to be back in Harm's Way,