"I don't have a death wish...

...but I'm willing to go Home if I can take a truckload of you Home with me."

Those were Richard Ellis' closing words in his Thursday radio sermon, and they resonated like crazy with me. "I'm tired of this. I'm tired of sin. I don't have a death wish, but I have no objection to going Home..."

And that's how I'm feeling these days. This disease is slowly killing me, and I can't seem to find a way to retire without losing an income source. I don't have all that much time left in any case - either God will bring His Children Home very soon, or this condition will knock me out of the game soon. In the meantime, I'm trying to process how I'm supposed to make it between my cessation of work and the end of the five-month moratorium when the powers-that-govern would finally deign to consider whether or not I'm disabled enough to retire or not.

On top of that, there's the matter of medical insurance to consider. Once I stop working, my medical coverage ceases. Thankfully, I'm not a cancer patient or something else that requires constant medical attention, but I am on twenty pills a day, meds that would cost me about my monthly paycheck each month without insurance. 

I've expressed my frustration with my current teaching position - after a delightful career doing all sorts of good for eager students, I'm spending the last few terms of my career supervising parolees rather than teaching at all. Meanwhile, it exhausts me to do so, and I lose all quality of life with my children or fiancee after a day of teaching, assuming I made it through the school day at all, which ofttimes I don't.

The question becomes, why am I still here? 
However... what if I can't leave?
And...is there any third alternative?