Having literally spent years in Third World shitholes, I was not surprised in 1991 to test positive for TB.  It was latent and it was treated.

Now, I'm batting .900 on active TB symptoms.

I'm likely on my way out for one reason or another.

It has been a truly fascinating life, both the good and the bad.

The Wanderer no longer wanders.  I came to Montana to die. It appears that I will have achieved my goal.