Homer as a Role Model - That Can’t Be Good

I’m beginning to think there’s something wrong with me.

I’m not sick enough to be this sick. 

I don’t look unwell. I don’t feel unwell, except when the chemo side effects kick in.

I’m not afraid of dying. I’m sad that I might, and I’m sad for those who would be left behind, but the thought of dying doesn’t keep me awake at night. In fact, last night’s dreams were mostly about a large cooked breakfast with all sorts of pig products glistening in a sizzling pan. Yum.

Either I am still in total denial, or I have progressed as quickly as Homer through Kubler Ross’s stages of grief. 

There really is something wrong with me.