I’ve told some of you, or perhaps you heard through the rumor mill. Some I told, knowing that they would serve that purpose. Now when you see me, and engage me about it, I am touched. But when tell you me of your own medical issues, or of the friend who succeeded beyond all hope, or failed beyond all measure, I can’t hear you.
I haven’t the time or heart to hear it. My cup is full, overflowing with my own concerns. Hard and cruel? Perhaps so. I hold a thin thread that I follow on this adventure, and I won’t lose it, or let go to hear you. Maybe later, perhaps when I am normal, or it doesn’t matter.
So what to say? I don’t know, it kills me anyway to accept pity, to confess weakness. I am a man after all. So lets talk normally, yea the Browns still stink and if you must tell me then here’s some with how I rate them:
Oh, sucks to be you, but fight through it. ( Not bad, manly no pity )
I’m so sorry. ( You should be happy it isn’t you )
I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers ( that works )
I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you ( not scientifically tested, but OK )
Good luck ( yeah, I could use a bit of that lately )
Let me know if I can help ( OK — I may have to take you up on that. Do you know an eight letter word with only one vowel? ) Leave a comment with the answer if you can find it without the internet, or have read John Hershey’s “The Child Buyer”.
Oh, and that remedy you heard about on cable tv that is gonna save me, send me an email. I’ll get back to ya.