. . . the final chapter
Posted by Lassiter in Uncategorized at 10:19 am |
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Monday 9/25/06 It is hard to imagine feeling much worse than I do now – the constant foul taste that makes me sick to my stomach, the back pain as the neuropathy eats away at nerves and muscle tissue, the inability to eat solid food, the resignation that my illness brings on. In short, I am miserable, consumed with, overwhelmed by it all.
I have chosen to keep what amounts to a diary that you will not see until the end. I am no longer able to function in the world you live in – I am no longer able to pretend that I have anything in common with everyday people. I am dying – I know it, am not at all happy about it, and have retreated into my own world – a world that has no escape. I always thought that I would live until I died – I did not realize that it could take so long, be so hard. In some respects, it’s amazing how a body that clearly is failing clings on to life – fighting a losing battle, refusing to give in to the inevitable.
It’s one thing to sit in a doctor’s office, and be told that you are going to die – and having no real sense of what that means – and quite another experiencing the actual agonizing process. You ask what to expect, what it will feel like – you are told, but the words ring hollow until the sensation begins to kick in. The day comes where you hope that you simply fail to wake up – when life is no longer desirable – where the morning is a bitter disappointment as yet another day dawns. Wednesday 9/27/06 As I have mentioned previously, my universe grows smaller by the day – in part because I allow it, in part beyond my control. Yesterday I had coffee with one of the few genuinely decent people I ever worked with – Sharon Taylor. It was good to see her – it had been almost two tears since we last got together – and yet it was sad. Sad because I have declined so much.
I’ve kept myself out of view for so long – I could not help but notice Sharon’s concern and shock at seeing me struggle with the simplest of tasks. It actually caused me to realize how feeble I’ve become. The Muffin does virtually everything for me – even down to fixing my coffee. Yesterday I had to struggle with shaking hands to put sugar and creamer in a cup – a simple task, but one I’ve not done for a year or more.
But it was good to see my old friend – it was good to do something different other than sit by myself in what has become my prison… Monday 10/02/06 My 61st year began with anything other than good news. My legs – my knees in particular – are increasingly unable to hold me upright. Last night I fell, today I ache and am fearful of walking. How close am I to being bedridden? How much lower can I sink?
The only thing I wanted for my birthday was to go to our favorite restaurant with my best girl – but when it came time to go, I was afraid – afraid of doing something as common as going out for lunch. I hate what has become of me. Tuesday 10/03/06 So yesterday I discovered that my good, close, personal friends at WFLA are hard at work preparing my obituary. It’s reported that my “many friends” at the station are worried about me. Of course, in the past seven years I’ve only seen one of my “many friends”, and spoken briefly with another on the phone.
Overall, I’m amused that the bastards who threw me out in the gutter, now want to “honor” me with a fancy obit. I’m sure that it will be a warm and fuzzy thing, praising me to the hilt – why must the world be so phony? These were the last words Bob wrote . . . As his body failed him, I doubt he could find the strength to continue his entries. On Wednesday, October 11 he became too weak to get out of bed and remained in a sleep-like condition until he was gone at 9:15 am on Friday, October 13. He was not in pain . . . his life just stopped. His long struggle is finally at an end . . . much quicker than he or I anticipated. The sorrow and sadness that fill me now are overwhelming. I have lost the love of my life and my best friend. My thanks to those of you who have followed and shared his struggle over the past months, lending support and encouragement. Bob lived his life in the manner he chose, he died in the manner he chose, and I am respecting his wishes that there be no visitation or memorial service. Should you like to make a memorial contribution in his name (and Bob was not expecting anyone to), it was his wish that these be made to: Bob’s legacy will be a special memory or moment that he left with each of you. Hold it dear in your heart.
Robert Lassiter Fund
c/o Collingswood Recreation Dept.
Attn: Holly Mannel
678 Haddon Ave.
Collingswood NJ 08108
