If bargaining is a stage of grief, I have been stuck there for 30+ years. Like bargaining in relation to the finality of death, mine involves impossibilities. I'll accept my growing blindness if my eyes are a prettier color--say the shade of green my siblings got. Or: Okay, I'm carrying a few extra pounds. I just want them to be there instead of here. There's always a balance in these mental machinations, as in a carefully calibrated mobile. But it's preposterous! What am I grieving? Being born in this body? As opposed to what? Get to acceptance already!