The first time ‘If you don’t complete this, there will be changes’ was spoken was last week. Then, seven days later, the exact phrase was uttered again. So, in essence, my new boss threatened me. And even though I excelled at every performance review since starting with the company, working onsite through COVID, through my father’s death, two days post-tumor surgery, through Parkinson’s, through significant arthritis pain, that God-forbid that this one project, should it not be performed to perfection could end it all. So I wouldn’t say I like theoretical, but that’s what I think about.

Theoretically, I understand my legal rights. But, theoretically, to be fired in such a manner is wrong. And theoretically, should I have to sue to claim my rights, I could be dead before the court award. I wish I could state that I had the means not to work, for many receiving a terminal diagnosis never work again. But when I wake up, I feel I am meant to do something positive. But then, there are distractions.

Trust me; doubts plague me. There are questions for which I don’t have the answers. For example, should I see another doctor altogether (both neurologist and rheumatologist)? Should I find an expert who specializes in neck and spine surgery? Should I take several weeks off and visit an esteemed medical facility like the Cleveland Clinic (Ohio), Barnes Jewish Hospital (St. Louis), or the University of Illinois at Chicago Medical Center? Or should I refuse my employer’s bullshit and join the Great Resignation?

According to BigThink, Nearly 20 million Americans dumped employers last year to find more fulfillment in life and work. “F**k you,” they said. Some propelled toward retirement. Others sought more meaningful work. But, for the optimist, it was the magnetism of living a better life. Ah, yes, the resurgence of those recognizing their economic value and searching for the perfect aspiration of work-life balance (found only at the end of the rainbow). Eh? I don’t know. What’s my value?

I don’t think I have a tremendous amount of residual value. Three years ago, I was given two years of quality life. So, that makes me equal to that bag of mixed vegetables in the back of your freezer. You know the one, the one you haven’t used since purchasing it early in pandemic. Yeah. That one. My one similarity, the ‘use by date,’ angers me.

There are many days I awake pissed off. Why? Because I am mad at God for allowing me to awake one more day (no, not suicidal). On a few days, I thought of drinking myself to death. However, while I believe Southern Comfort eases a lot of pain, Blanton’s makes an extremely fantastic bourbon. However, neither is a recommended long-term medicinal. So, that leaves me back at value.

Journalist Bari Weiss went on HBO’s “Real Time with Bill Maher” and said she was “done with Covid”. Of course, that created both applause and criticism. In that same spirit, maybe I should be done with Parkinson’s. Caput. Done. Over. Nada. While we’re at it, I want to be so over arthritis and medical treatments. And I am also done with that damn hourglass constantly reminding time is dwindling. However, as a value proposition, none of that has changed neither the disease nor the outcome. Some will claim there’s value in remembering pre-COVID ‘normal times,’ but for the long-term dying, it’s hard to perceive it.

Trust me. I currently find little value in long-term death. When I was 25, terminal illness diagnosis meant death was likely within six months. Today, we have the technology to make one live a long time. And quite frankly, I don’t understand the value of it.

Maybe God can tell me. “Hey God? How about it? What’s the value?” I mumbled as I dialed God’s hotline.

“Hello, you’ve reached God’s Verification and Value Department. Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line for the next available Angel. Your call will be answered in 54 years, 37 days, and 12 hours.”