The value of my life hasbeen variable; but infinity is a constant.) But that's not what people wonder about, is it? They want to know,do you (brrrr!)...*fear* death? Fear it?--the fog in your throat, the mistin your face? Well, at some animal level, I suppose I must. I assume it'sa biological imperative wired into any animal with enough of a nervoussystem to feel fear at all. But my fear must be deeply suppressed, becauseI don't feel anything like that consciously. Resentment, yes, but. I vaguely remember her putting me on the toilet before being strapped into my custom bath chair. I woke in the morning in clean PJs, needing to piss badly. There was no sign of Kelly anywhere.At least they didn’t strap my hand to board last night when they reconnected my IV line after my bath. Now I can get that urinal and hold my dick in it while I piss.“Can I help you again,” the candy striper that had helped me before asked. “I overheard the nurses talking. They said your friend who takes. More

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