Intro

My brother and I are all that are left of a once huge Irish Catholic family. He is 38 and lives in St. Louis. Oddly, we have both chosen to be alone throughout most of our lives, each of us preferring the company of dogs to people.

Now that I'm at the end of my life, I kinda wish I had some relative or another to fall back on. Being a lonely curmudgeon has finally come back to bite me on the ass. I miss my grandma, who was mostly responsible for raising me. She was also half German, but was not keen on admitting it.  She was kind and sweet and loved me with food. She would force cookies and coffee with cream down my throat at every visit up until the time I was in my thirties when she died. She had a bad heart. I wish she was here now so we could commiserate about bad hearts and eat cookies and drink coffee. I wish she could tell me what was going to happen next. I wish I could ask her what I should do.

The last time I saw my doctor I asked him how much time he could buy me. He said nothing. Pussy. I see him again on Monday. Oh goody. If I have to be nauseated, puking and in pain all day every day, the time he's buying me isn't worth it. Dammit, I want some cookies and coffee with cream.