On Saturday, Irene was off at a course, and I went to get another tattoo. I've had it in mind ever since being diagnosed, and had got as far as printing the design and keeping it in my wallet for reflection. But as I was in town to visit the library, I dropped in at my regular tattoo shop to check the feasibility and get a costing. As it happened, they told me that it was fine apart from a trivial change to the punctuation size, and if I wanted, they could do it straight away. I went for it.
The tattoo, which is too high on my arm to be publicly visible, says "D.O.A.", in the typography of the poster for the 1950 film noir movie of that name. If you don't know it, the plot concerns a man who finds he has been poisoned by a "luminous toxin" that will kill him in a couple of days, though he initially feels adequately well, and he uses those days to find his murderer. There was a 1988 remake with a different plotline, but the same premise. At the moment, I'm strongly identifying with that scenario; and although the meaning of D.O.A. in the context of the movies (i.e. Dead On Arrival) may seem morbid, it has a positive meaning for me. I'm not planning to die any time soon, but whatever the outcome, it's a personal reminder to avoid my tendency to procrastinate, and not to waste time on inessentials.
- James
