Doctor, doctor, give me the news

Mom and I put together a short list of questions for the FA specialist on Thursday. Of course, I won't ask the main questions on my mind. Not the God questions, though I won't ask them either

The future questions are the ones I want to know.

• How much worse?
• Will FA keep me from working? When?
• Will it kill me? How?
•  What's my life expectancy?

The last one he might be able to answer generally. I am too scared to ask that, though.

I know it is rather pointless to know the future. Not much I'd do different if I were going to die tomorrow. Maybe be nicer to God, buy my niece a life-size TARDIS and my nephew a dancing Groot. Other than that ...

Not that I don't have regrets -- "more than a few" -- but nothing to do about them now but regret them. So I do.

  I guess that means I have lived a pretty good life. Not that I am ready to die.