deathnote #4: covid-19

17 Mar 2020

i write to you while on the phone with fenway health, my queer-friendly health center (where my pcp is and has been for the last six years). i have had a consistent dry cough since tuesday march 10th. it got a little worse in the evening of march 15th but got better again yesterday. this morning i woke up feeling pretty good and clear. and then i coughed up some phlegm that had blood in it. i sneezed once and that was pretty bloody, too.

so.

things seem to be getting worse without me having much negative felt sensation. that feels pretty scary. and to be clear: i am scared.

do i have covid-19? i have no idea. it’s allergy season, it’s flu season, it’s cold season, and (as of today) the medical folks are only testing the people with highest risk of complications.

what’s clear to me, though, is that in the midst of all this chaos, some of the energy driving the anxiety is avoidance of the possibility of death. there’s lots of other reasons, to be sure, but there is also that one. this might kill you or someone you know/love.

people often look at me like i’m nuts when i say things like that. “why are you always so morbid?” “did you have to take it THERE?” and most of the time, my response is: it’s not morbid; it’s reality. you and everyone you know will die. and most of them/us will do it sooner than we wish.

if you know me well, you know that me and death are quite friendly: i post have the we croak app on my phone which sends me five quotes about death(ish) every day and post death quotes often on my instagram; i had an nde (near death experience) in late high school that viscerally taught me that no day is promised; and i am often the first one to bring up the reality that we all will die and many of us will die sooner than we expect.

i say all of that to say: this is updated annual death note. the last one i wrote was in feb 2019. here’s what i’m thinking now (much of which is informed by previous death notes):

• i want there to be dancing at my funeral. if my funeral happens in a time where people can’t be together physically, do that shit on zoom or whatever the latest virtual tech is.
• i still want there to be no flowers for me (because two of my grandma’s didn’t want that). spend money on the living; after i’m dead, i won’t care how pretty it was. hell, buy yourself the flowers if you want, but don’t say they’re for me.
• i still want to be buried in a way that my body will decompose naturally. keep me out of those caskets, wooden or otherwise.
• i want all my nibblings to know (a) you are each magic and (b) you are loved by me from as many dimensions as you can imagine. i’m sure i’m gonna miss some names, but here is the list as i know it right now: jayden, asa, alvie, kohli, finn, anthem, leah, baby nate, alaena, caden, jacob, noël, nicolia, darshan, zaire, iona, neema.
• i want my bio and chosen family to know that i love each of you and that my life has been immeasurably shaped by you, no matter how long or short we were in or out of contact. from you i learned how to be me.
• i want my friends to know that i love you. it is largely through my experience of friendship that i have found freedom, liberation, and joy.
• i want all the communities i am a part of to know that “whatever the problem, community is the solution.” please keep living as if that were true.

i could always put so much more in these notes but this isn’t meant to be a contract; it’s just some general thoughts and guidance for folks i leave behind as i stay grounded in the ultimate truth: i could die at literally any moment.

words / writing / post-processing
524w / 11min / 11min