I’m in pain, day and night, awake and asleep. So far they can’t diagnose me. I won’t bore everyone with all the details, but after years of this not letting up, rather steadily getting worse, I find myself seeing interrogation scenes in movies and think, what a puss. When I was told a year ago that I had ovarian cancer, I was sad for a little while, but then I started hoping it was inoperable. The biopsies came up clean, and the cancer turned out to be scarring. The doctor was excited to give me the good news. I got depressed. I had been hoping to get doped up on painkillers until I died. I felt that way because I had thought numerous times about suicide, but knew I could not actually do it. Espiritus Corvus talked me through a lot of it, right up to a few days before his passing. He kept urging me to get writing, get published, and make enough money to get better doctors.