Written yesterday afternoon…

I was discussing what the doctor said with Tom, and because I was so out of it, I misunderstood some things. When the doctor said the symptoms seemed more bothersome than what he saw upon examination, it didn’t mean he didn’t believe me. He just meant that he normally wouldn’t operate on anyone who looked like me unless they complained of symptoms. He believed me when I said that while I was fine when I was up and about, I was anything but fine in my sleep. That’s why he was so aggressive with the turbinates, and yes, he did file some of the septum bone down.

I fed the surgery report to AI to have it summarize and interpret whether it thought the doctors made the right call by skipping valve repair and going right to the turbinates and the septum, and it agreed. I know it seems I always have to worry about something, LOL. But until I know if I’m breathing better, yes, I’m going to worry about whether this was all worth it.

One thing I can say for sure is that there was definitely a lot less pain than with the cholecystectomy. With this, I’ve had very little pain in my nose, which is where I expected most of it to be. Instead, it ended up in my head, throat, and eyes.

Of the three hospitals I’ve been in, I think this one was the best. They weren’t as nice in Brooksville, where they did my gallbladder, and Tampa General was kind of crazy. The tall, slim, dark-haired, dark-eyed recovery nurse was the best. I just think it would have been nice if they had prevented my eyes from becoming infected.

LOL, at least I didn’t pee. That was one of the things on the surgery report… urine output: none.

Since he said I was healing nicely and it would be safe to stop it, I decided to drop the prednisone since it could mess with my stomach and make my heart race a bit. I accidentally skipped my levo. My brain is so fried that I took it out of habit like I normally do when I get up, but then when I took the other drugs, I remembered that I couldn’t take the prednisone on an empty stomach, so I ate—and that would pretty much cancel out the levothyroxine. Oh well. It was accumulating a bit anyway.

Tom just got back from donating, and I was able to make us some scrambled eggs even though I could barely taste them. I just needed something with more substance in me. I’ll let him empty the dishwasher, but he doesn’t mind. He’s always offering to help, but because he does so much as it is, I try to do all I can.

This afternoon…

I thought it was the prednisone—although I’m sure I would be having issues by now if I were still taking it—but it was the amoxicillin-clav that was causing the side effects in my stomach. It was also causing my heart to race, so I had to stop it. I let my ENT know and asked Rhonda for Diflucan.

Really getting sick of this endless suffering and totally regret not putting myself out of my misery years ago! Slept horribly, and I’m totally exhausted. No energy to do much more than lie around. Now that some air can pass through my nose, I started trying to breathe through it in my sleep, and just like before surgery, I couldn’t get enough air and woke up. The inside is still swollen, crusty, and stuffy. AI says I’ll notice 30 to 50% better airflow after the stents come out, but that’s still days away. I feel very run-down and like I have a bad head cold.

OK, now I should finally get caught up. As I said yesterday afternoon…Writing has been hard since I couldn’t see well, and speech-to-text was having trouble understanding me with my nose packed so tightly before. Even my voice has been affected due to throat irritation from the breathing tube.

Turns out I have either an eye infection or some kind of allergic reaction to whatever shit they put in my eyes during surgery. Usually, they put some stuff in your eyes to keep them moist and tape them shut while you're in surgery. I think this is an infection given how teary, red, and crusty they are, along with how weird and raw the skin feels around them. Even my eyelashes are stiff and feel wiry. I had to wash my eyes when I got up with a washcloth because I could barely open them. They feel like a cat scratched them. I just can't get a fucking break! So we'll be picking up the eye drops the doctor called in on the way home.

I asked Tom, do you really think these 12 years of suffering are suddenly going to end? And why now? I just can't believe there won't be another 4- to 8-year problem, but if it's that debilitating, I'm gone. Like I said before, if I'd known I'd suffer so much for so long, I'd have ended it then.

In better news, the packing is out, and it didn't hurt much at all—just pressure and irritation in the back of my throat for a while. My nose is still very stuffy, like when you have a cold, which is to be expected. Doubt I'll be able to taste or smell much for another week or so. Eating very little has lost me about 5 lb, but there's no way I could sustain a diet of under a thousand calories a day, and it will definitely come right back as soon as I feel a little more human and can taste again.

The doctor said I could lie flat anytime I wanted to, but due to the congestion, I'm unable to. Also, being elevated helps keep me from resisting the urge to roll onto my stomach. He said give my nose two more weeks before I go back on the CPAP. I'm amazed I've been able to breathe out of my mouth. I was really worried about that at first. At least I haven't woken up feeling winded. I'd love to know what my AHI score has been since surgery!

The only other thing the doctor said back at the hospital that I didn't like was that if this procedure doesn't work, my only other option would be nasal valve surgery, but no fucking way! I meant every word of it when I said no more debilitating problems. I'm done with surgery, and I'm done with health issues. Minor shit we all go through is one thing, but things that literally rob me of my life are another. I'm gone when the next debilitating problem hits—or he goes. Whichever comes first.

This procedure does have a huge success rate, though, from what I read, of up to 85%. He didn't just shrink the turbinates; he tweaked my septum as well, and I think he filed some of the bone, if I'm understanding everything correctly. He was more aggressive on the left side, which was giving me more trouble, but of course, they can't shrink them away completely because they're still necessary for humidity and other things.

The doctor said to wait two days before switching from Tylenol back to ibuprofen, which is way easier for me to swallow. I'll have the splints pulled out closer to home on the 4th, and he said that wouldn't hurt. Because I could only get a morning appointment, I may have to cut my sleep short. My whole life is health issues and the schedule game. I can't wait until I no longer have to worry about when I crash and get up, at least for a few weeks.

At least the next appointment will be closer, so we won't have to spend hours driving this old piece of shit, and the doctor shouldn't be 45 minutes late if I'm seeing him that early. I have to rinse my nose with saline, but he says it's healing nicely.

We're just about ready to hit the road again. It's sunnier now and warm and humid, but not unbearably so. It's so frustrating how things are closer to us here than they were when we lived in Maricopa, but take so much longer to get to because of the traffic and long lights.

Written this morning…

Although they called the three prescriptions into the right Walgreens after surgery, they fucked up and called the eye drops to the wrong one so we had to wait another hour before they were transferred over. They’re like miracle drops, though! I noticed a difference after just the first drop in each eye and even more so after the second. I’m to put one drop in each eye every 4 hours for a week.

Just took my mustache bandage off and put a new one on, and yay, the bleeding has finally stopped. Just a little bit of dried blood after doing a saline rinse. No pain or anything. I just feel like I have the head cold from hell, and worry I may be getting a yeast infection due to the antibiotic. Still tired and still not able to get much air through my nose. I can just barely taste anything.

Another thing I didn't like was when he said not to thank him yet until we see if I get any benefit from this procedure. I would be so fucking pissed to have spent all this time and money and gone through all this shit for nothing. So let's hope Tom's assessment of the before-and-after photos he was shown and what I researched is right, and that I have a good chance of breathing much better.

I'm also hoping that what AI told me is going to end up being the case, and that’s that I may not have air escaping through my mouth when I go back to the CPAP. Again, being the pessimist that I am, I have my doubts, but it said that if the nose is blocked, it's only natural that air would take the path of least resistance, which was my mouth. So we'll just see what happens over the next few weeks. It could take weeks and even months to fully heal.

Ugh, just checked the weather and it’s going to storm well past when I need to sleep. Yeah, Tom, because there really isn’t any curse on my sleep, and it’s not that I’m not meant to sleep or anything. Naw, I’ll be sleeping just great soon enough, right?

I feel like I'm never going to feel human again and get back to myself! I'm so backed up in my writing, and even after just a couple of days, my coloring, VR, and scented candles seem like long-lost memories. I still have no sense of taste or smell.

I'm writing in my notebook while charging at the dead emergency room without glasses because my eyes are still watery and my glasses keep fogging up. At 10:00, I have to take two Oxy and Tylenol because the doctor, who was kind enough to call me directly yesterday, said taking out the packing at 11:00 is going to hurt, even if it's only for 2 seconds. Even Becky said it hurts like hell.

My nose is still bleeding, but almost all my pain has been first in my throat, then my forehead, and then my eyes. My eyes have never been this irritated! I wish I didn't need glasses or have long lashes.

When it was finally time to be wheeled to the OR after the “party hat” went on, about 15 minutes before I was taken in, the nurse sprayed a calming medication (I forgot its name) into my mouth, which helped relax me. I could feel it kicking in by the time I got into the brightly lit OR with the anesthesiologist, respiratory therapist, and surgical nurse. Almost all the medical staff there were women, which I liked. They wheeled the gurney up to the operating table and had me shimmy over onto it.

They put cuffs on my calves that gently massage them to keep blood flowing. That's the only part that felt good. I'm a shallow breather, probably due to being a trained singer, so the anesthesiologist had to remind me to take deep breaths while she held the plastic oxygen mask over my face. This time, I knew it was coming when I was going out. I wasn't taken by surprise, and it wasn't instantaneous. I saw the anesthesiologist reach over and inject something into my IV, and that was it. Like literally a 3-second fade-out.

Next thing I know, I'm waking up to, “Hey Jodi, can you take a deep breath for me?” My eyes blinked open, and I could see the recovery nurse hanging over me and hear this beeping sound the machine would make every time I went into shallow breathing mode. Tom was just being led around the corner, and I guess she had been trying to coax me for a while, lol.

Although heavily groggy, the next thing I noticed was my mustache bandage and watery eyes. The doctor later told me that it was normal (until he saw me). Working so close to the tear ducts can do that, and a friend who had nose surgery said she experienced the same thing. So I didn't think much of it at first, as annoying as it was.

I couldn't pee until after I got home because I was so dehydrated. Been having electrolyte drinks every day. It's times like these I wish my cyber besties, along with Jessie and Becky, lived nearby. I've been keeping them updated on Messenger, though.

Anyway, it's a beautiful, partly cloudy day. I hope this will give me my sleep/life back so I can enjoy the outdoors more. I'm just afraid to get my hopes up after 12 years of steady suffering. I still fear something else will fuck with my sleep, or I'll go into a new long-term debilitating problem, but I already made up my mind that I won't stand for it.

Tom woke me up by accident yesterday. Yeah, right after I fell asleep, he accidentally dropped some silverware, and in this tiny house with above-door vents, which I hate, the sound went right through.

Just used the bathroom again as we continue to charge and took the Tylenol and Oxy. I'll write till I'm too drowsy. I was given prednisone, which I have to make sure I don't take on an empty stomach, and amoxicillin, which I hope won't trigger a yeast infection or else I'll have to ask Rhonda for Diflucan.

Anyway, the traffic and planes here are nothing I've ever experienced before in my life. It's horrible. Construction and accidents everywhere. The construction is starting to remind me of Phoenix. Couldn't even enjoy my music on my phone because people's boom stereos would override it.

On the way back from the ENT now but will update in my next entry.

I was giddy with relief when I saw the text message saying to show up at St. Joseph's the following morning, with the only disappointment being that it was three hours later. It would have been much better if we had to be there at 5:30 rather than 8:30 because Tampa traffic is a nightmare. I thought we'd be home by 1:00 or 2:00, but instead we got home at 10 minutes to 5:00, just enough time for him to call the company we rented a car from so that they wouldn't report it as stolen. He dropped it off a little later, but unfortunately this ordeal is going to cost us yet more money, and we'll probably be charged for another day.

It was a Chevy Malibu, and like most modern vehicles, it was loud, something I still don't get. Since they just keep adding appointments, we're going to take our car down to Tampa and charge it a few times the day I get the packing removed, but I don't want to jump too far ahead in this journal. The splints will come out at the beginning of March.

After the valet person parked our rental, we checked in. I thought I'd have to play 20 questions again, but I was just asked basic identifying info and that was it. We sat there in uncomfortable chairs definitely not built for short people for about 45 minutes before I was called back to the prep room. I had to dip a toothbrush into a bottle of liquid and brush my teeth with it, and then use another brush to brush my guns and tong—oh my God, speech-to-text is having such a hard time understanding me since I can't breathe out of my nose at all. My gums and tongue, I was trying to say. This was to reduce bacteria.

Then I had to take off everything but my panties and wash my body with warm wipes. I saved the last one for the nurse to do my back. After that, I was given a hospital johnny and non-skid socks. Then she swabbed a solution in my nose, and it was time for my blood pressure reading, which was through the roof. My heart rate was elevated too. I think it was more the exhaustion than nerves since I've had plenty of surgery before. She took my temp, and I was not happy that the IV had to go in my hand, but it wasn't too bad since she was able to place it closer to my wrist. The probes were then stuck to me, which the heart leads attach to.

After I was propped up on the gurney, she went and got Tom, who's been totally awesome throughout this ordeal. I could never have handled this alone. The extreme exhaustion and what these health issues have taken out of me have really affected my brain. My thinking and memory have been horrible, but if this procedure is a success, hopefully I can sleep better—as long as there isn't really a curse on my sleep that's just going to do something else to fuck with it—and some of the brain damage will be reversed.

Then I met the surgical team, the anesthesiologist, and the respiratory therapist who put the breathing tube down my throat because of my sleep apnea so I didn't wake up with tight lungs, especially since the one-hour surgery became a two-hour surgery, which is longer than the cholecystectomy was. Originally, he didn't know exactly what he was going to do. He knew he was going to reduce the turbinates but didn't know for sure if he would do the septoplasty. Well, he did.

I was discouraged at first because he said, as a conservative surgeon, he was only 60% confident that I would find relief after surgery since my symptoms seemed a bit extreme for what he saw upon examination—not that he didn't believe me. AI said this means he's a good surgeon to downplay the results, LOL, and that they usually underestimate like that. He showed Tom before-and-after pictures while I was in recovery, and Tom said he made it a lot roomier in my nose. There were signs of allergies, so I'll probably still have to do some kind of allergy regimen, although he believes it wasn't caused by allergies and likely would have happened even if we hadn't moved here. That's great to know since we're almost certainly going to spend the rest of our lives in Florida!

On the way to Rhonda's now. It's so stupid. She's only going to do the same thing the pre-op nurse just did. It's a little hard to see now, as it's not even seven and the sun hasn't risen above the horizon yet.

I'm not as horribly tired as yesterday, but I'm still tired enough. I'm beginning to forget when I last had energy. Slept okay last night. Not great, but okay. I could have used a little more sleep, but sometimes I wake up and can't get back to sleep. There were a few snorts, but no feelings of suffocation. I slept mostly elevated. It'll probably be a week or so before I return to the CPAP. The CPAP was definitely making it seem worse, and I was worried for a minute that the same thing would eventually happen until AI, much to my relief, said a CPAP can make swollen turbinates worse, as you're basically trying to quickly suck air through what's like a coffee stir. It said that the CPAP will work significantly better after the procedure.

And he is doing a septoplasty along with the reduction, so that's why I have to go to the hospital and not just because my nose is tiny like they said. Why would they lie like that? Oh well, as long as I get what I need done. I sure hope this is never a problem again because I read that up to 20% of the people who have this done need a revision at some point.

No more surgery! It's too many appointments, too much money, and too far away.

Why are we having temperatures reserved for late December and early January when it's almost March? It's 47°, and it's going to be colder tomorrow morning!

Anyway, he paid the ridiculous amount of money that was remaining and locked in a rental car. Because he didn't pay for the car up front, he can cancel if there are any problems or delays. God, I hope not! It's going to be so stressful sleeping and wondering if I'm going to wake up to that text I so desperately need to see!

Later... On the way back home from Rhonda now. If I liked blondes and still had those horny hormones, I'd probably be hot for her. She looked beautiful—pin-straight hair I wish I had, dressed very stylishly, beautiful nails and jewelry, etc. I even liked her lipstick color, and she has nice teeth, too.

I've come to feel so comfortable with her. She's got such a soothing way about her. She's way better than Artiaga. Plus, she's a believer. She believes me when I say levothyroxine can make me anxious.

Anyway, she said the ENT shouldn't have sent me to her and understands I was stressed on the phone when I apologized for coming off as rude. She's going to rush the paperwork for clearance.

She's gotten to know me well now too, lol, because she said to herself earlier, “I hope she's early, but then she's always early. She also knows my blood pressure. The upper number was in the 140s when the nurse took it, but when she took it again, she knew it would be lower because we'd sat there chatting for a few minutes—and it was. It's still high even when it's lower, though, but at least it was down in the 130s.

Later…The eve of the 23rd, before septo surgery:

For the second or third time in a row, I started to fall asleep and sprang awake, hot flashing and waking up a lot. That was when I realized the levo had accumulated since my last skip was right before Christmas. You would think I would know better by now based on the symptoms. Not really anxious or heart-racy, but it can and has fucked with my sleep. Not saying stress hasn’t been involved, but part of the 18-hour stretches and short sleeps was because of that, so I skipped a dose the following day.

I took half a clonazepam early on, and after taking another half shortly before 7 PM, I made myself lie there a while. I actually first woke up shortly before 7 and saw the light on in the kitchen. Then, when I saw the light go out, I said to myself, well, that’s a good thing, right? That means surgery is a go, and he’s going to bed early because he’ll have to get up early… unless he’s just tired from donating.

At that point, as exhausted as I was, I had to get out of bed somewhere between 8:00 and 9:00 to finally check my phone and find out if it was a go or not. To say I was crying tears of relief at the sight of that text from St. Joe’s is an understatement. I really need this surgery! I’m a lot more desperate than I was with the gallbladder. That was waking me up, but not as this shit has been.

Not wanting to miss my window of opportunity for food and drink, I didn’t make any coffee, but I had a frozen dinner, thinking I wasn’t going to be able to fall back asleep and would have a sandwich around 11:30 along with coffee, but I napped for a couple of hours, not getting up until midnight.

So I showered the way they told me, and it’s a good thing I didn’t open the thing they gave me beforehand because it was kind of damp with the soap they put on the sponge. I love the way the brush exfoliates, which is attached to the sponge, so I kept it after wringing all the soap out of it when I was done using it.

Then I napped for a couple of hours and couldn’t breathe hardly at all during my nap, even with the nasal dilator.

Anyway, I’m doing what was recommended and taking it easy after running the dishes. I’ve already got my post-surgery big wedge pillow in place, and I’ll just be playing on the phone. I just hope this surgery helps as much as I hear it should! It will be a long, tired day for me, but at least I got some sleep, and it’s going to be totally worth it. It better be.

Had another nightmarish sleep. Woke up struggling to breathe a few hours after crashing, and I'm seriously starting to wonder if the CPAP isn't actually exacerbating the turbinate issues. AI says it's possible. I struggled with different wedge pillows and decided to stick with my smaller one, and since I couldn't breathe anyway, I said fuck the CPAP for a while. So with just a nose strip, I finally got back to sleep, one Benadryl and one clonazepam later (I didn't take anything before bed). Surprisingly, I didn't snort up a storm, and I woke to find my nose surprisingly clear. I also awoke extremely exhausted.

Even my chest has been tight, achy and a little crampy. I just took a hit of my inhaler. Not sure if that's on the estrogen, the environment, the stress, or the lack of sleep. Probably a combination of things. So I'm going to forget the CPAP for a while, but I'll have to sleep elevated and with a nose strip. My AHI score will probably be over five, and that alone will leave me tired, but this is the way it has to be until after surgery. And even after surgery, I'm going to have to stay elevated for a while.

I definitely want to get a home sleep apnea testing kit sometime. After my nose is done, I would love to see what I am then—especially if I keep my TSH as low as I can stand it.

In some ways, I'm worse than I was in California. Yes, the anxiety was absolutely horrible there. Worst feeling in the world! But this is so much more debilitating. I could still live my life for the most part, even when I was anxious. But now I'm so run down and my brain is so fried. I have to spend so much time stuck in bed. I totally forgot my glasses when I went to the lab—that's how brain-dead I am. I can see mostly okay in the distance, but reading things was hard. I had an electrolyte drink before heading to the lab, and unless the phlebotomist I saw was just really good, electrolytes really do help expand tiny veins such as mine.

I was going to save the writing for the road, but I don't expect to have energy Monday morning when I go to see Rhonda. If I do, then maybe I'll write some story stuff. I just want all these fucking appointments to stop and to be able to breathe in my sleep and have energy! If I could do appointments every day, I would be out there working. So I just want this done, my new crown, and to make one last-ditch effort to try to get a mouthguard.

For $80, we could rent a car as soon as we get the go-ahead for surgery, but the problem is that they want a copy of a utility bill. But hardly anyone gets utility bills in the mail these days! So if surgery is a go, then he'll see if he can find something else they'll accept. Getting that green light is going to make me feel a whole lot better—but not until I get it. Unfortunately, it's going to be very hard sleeping after I see Rhonda because I'm going to be wondering if that text has arrived or not. I won't know until I get up. Damn, do I hope there are no delays! The stress and sleep issues are going to kill me if this isn't resolved soon. Really, I feel like I'm dying here. We've got the money ready to pay off the rest of what we owe.

For some reason, I thought there were just three appointments connected to having my gallbladder removed, but there were actually five. I had the ultrasound, the HIDA, the surgery consult, the pre-op, and then the surgery. No follow-up was needed.

Blogger is public again because I really do like the idea of random strangers reading me for some reason; I just don't want to debate, argue, or get unsolicited advice. Besides, I just don't feel very sociable these days. I keep private stuff in Word and on some websites in private entries, and then I have some public stuff, so I basically have a mix. It's not like I'm all or nothing.

Did another Ash therapy session, as I do most days. I do find them helpful to a degree. She gives me new perspectives on things.

Used the teeny tiny dab of estrogen, and it's already backing off the burning sensation that was returning—the kind that makes you think you have a UTI.

Anyway, I just want to be happy, healthy, and awake! I feel like I'm not able to enjoy our beautiful weather as much, being stuck indoors so much due to fatigue. An early evening walk would have been lovely.

The Honker took off somewhere a few days ago. When Tom told me he didn't see anyone but saw the doors to his truck open, my first thought was that he was unloading stuff for a project or picked his daughter up from the airport. Maybe there was an emergency back home, but I would think he would fly back for that. If I had to guess, he knows other people in other parts of the state and met his daughter there, and they'll eventually come here. Prick's birthday is coming up, and he always has visitors then.

I must be a really shitty detective because I tried again using AI to find Nane's apartment. Who knows if she still lives there, but I remember she once told me she could see the Swiss Alps on a clear day from her apartment. AI said only the extreme southern apartments in Munich could see those mountains. It gave me a slew of addresses to run through Google Maps, but nothing jumped out at me. There was one particular building I couldn't get close enough to, and some were blocked by trees.

I doubt I'll finish the current VZ challenge, which actually has some good rides for a change. I'm only a quarter of the way through, and there are only about three weeks left, and surgery is going to keep me off the road for a while. If I live long enough to finish the two long rides I created that I'm working on, then after that, the goal is to finish all other unfinished rides, along with all the suggested rides.

I've got to stay up at least four more hours when all I want to do is sleep. Really wish I'd been told up front that I would have to see Rhonda! Again, it's going to be hard to sleep after I see her tomorrow, wondering if that text is coming in while I'm sleeping with either a green light or a red light. If only I could know that I was going to get the surgery on Tuesday and that I would eventually have fewer sleep disturbances, because that would really help me feel a lot better, more positive, and hopeful. Right now, all I feel is stress, stress, and more stress.

Sometimes I wish I were still in touch with Tammy so I could unload my health burdens on her, knowing she would understand since she suffered a lot too. But instead, I chose to make a tough decision regarding her and Andy by cutting ties with them. Well, that's what I used to think. I actually made the easiest decision. It's a lot easier to be free of their shit than it was to deal with it. It's easier not to be friends with a guy who doesn't believe half of what you tell him, makes fun of your phobias in a bad way that's meant to be mean and hurtful, and has a head full of false truths, half-truths, and is as contradictory as ever. It's also easier not to be associated with someone who was abusive to me at times as a child, defended her own abuser and helped lead me to jail, cyberbullied me, and then, with the aid of her twisted brood, caused me to have to change my number. So yeah, that just about stamps out any guilt, even if a part of me will always miss some parts of them.

Some people have said they like Blogger better than LJ, while others like LJ better, so I decided to keep both open after all. LJ may not be updated every day, though, and no matter what the platform, I'm not allowing comments because I'm tired of spammers. 

I'll write for me only in Word and then share what I'm willing to share online, and while I don't mind people reading, I'm just not as sociable as I used to be, and I don't want any unsolicited advice either. This is the best way I can think of to be both private and public at the same time. I want some things to be for me only, but I also like the idea of sharing some things with others if it could somehow inspire or help people.

Keeping my entries on PB rather short and I'm not sure how long I'll write there.

Tom's tentative plan is not to renew his license when it expires in 2030. He's eagerly awaiting the day he's not able to drive because he hates driving so much, lol. He also insists that an Uber wouldn't cost much more than the insurance we pay. It's not like we would be going places every day. I understand how he feels, but I would hate to lose the freedom and spontaneity that having a car gives. Sooner or later, though, as we continue to age, it definitely won't be worth keeping. Besides, it's not going to last forever, and when it breaks, we're almost certainly not going to be able to afford to replace it.

I was watching a true crime documentary on Paramount Plus, and there was one fascinating and complex case that made me think of Molly and her mother right away. There was a woman named Jenelle who looked a lot like Molly and even wore the glasses she would wear. She was unattractive, shy, weird, and not very popular. She had a crush on this guy who wasn't interested in her, and she wasn't the least bit happy when he took up with another woman and had a kid with her. So Jenelle started bashing herself anonymously, posing as the couple on a forum called Topix. Her parents really believed the threats were real and coming from the couple, the couple that their twisted daughter was actually targeting. Jenelle also created an account from “Chris the CIA agent” discussing killing the couple with her parents. Turns out Chris was catfished. He was actually a cop and someone Jenelle went to school with. Anyway, Jenelle's mother, a vicious mama bear similar to Molly's mother, instigated a hit, which her husband and some other guy carried out on the couple.

I had heard of the case before. That's the only problem with being into true crime—you've heard of most of the cases.

Why, oh why, is it that after 11 years, I still can't stop thinking of Nane at times and wishing we could go back in time and rekindle our friendship? How did this woman come to have such a long-lasting effect on me? And why? As Irene even said, she's a phony, hypocritical, judgmental bitch. The good-looking ones usually are, and damn was she a hottie. I was looking back through some of her old pictures that I saved last night. I totally regret getting rid of our chat thread like I did. I would love to read back through some of our chats.

And oh, how that curious side of me always lives on. So many things I wonder about her. Is she still in the same apartment she had been in for 17 years when we last spoke? If she really has retired, did she really get to move to Greece or Turkey like she talked about? I wonder what it was about those particular countries that drew her to them as opposed to Spain, Portugal, or some other Mediterranean country. I also wonder why she never got a house. I'm guessing it had to do with all the traveling she loved to do. She probably felt safer leaving a top-story apartment empty as opposed to a house whenever she would travel. She probably also felt safer in one when she was home.

I wonder what happened to Askim and if she's with anyone. What is her health like these days? Is she lonely? Is she sociable? What does she do in her free time now that she's not working? 

Just why, oh why, do I miss this woman? This woman, who stopped giving a damn about me ages ago and likely doesn't even remember I exist.

As exhausted as I am, I want to write while things are fresh in my mind. Slept shitty, and part of it was my own dumb fault because I overdid the estrogen again. Because of this, I was up for fucking ever, kept waking up every other minute when I finally knocked off, and along with my nose issues and air escaping my mouth, I just didn't sleep well at all. I was hot-flashy, my chest was a little achy, and I even had a little bit of lung tightness, so I've definitely got to ask Rhonda if there's something else I can try at some point.

That's not important now, though. What's important is whether or not I'm going to get surgery on Tuesday. We've never had this plan before, so we don't know how efficient they are. My lab results came back, and only a couple of tests were abnormal, but only slightly. These are not only common things but things I've had before on and off, mostly due to menopause and probably being a little dehydrated when they did the UA. According to my research, it shouldn't be anything that will prevent surgery. The only thing that can prevent it is if people don't do their jobs on time. Hopefully, everybody can play their part as quickly and as efficiently as possible, though.

They didn't sneak in any more appointments I couldn't make while I slept, so that's good. Tom was able to deal with the insurance company to get the numbers adjusted. It was saying we owe just over $1,200 when we've actually paid a third of that. It's still going to be an outrageous amount of money, and it's so unfair. It pisses the living shit out of me to see billions of dollars given to other countries while we don't get shit. This should be on the government, not the citizens. But no one wants to help anyone in this country.

Anyway, there are only two more things for us to do at this point, and that's to see Rhonda on Monday and then hope to hell that text message comes in later in the afternoon before I get up, saying when to be at the hospital. Even though I won't have to go through every single step again, I really, really dread the thought of any delays. I know it would be days or weeks at most and not months, but still, the longer I have to wait, the more stress and shitty sleep I'll be in for. If I stand the slightest chance of sleeping better and more comfortably once I can eventually lie flat again, then I need to get this done. Like NOW.

I think that's all I'll write for now since I'm still pretty tired. Maybe I'll do a little more later.

So I was thinking of a certain someone that I cut ties with and I'm wondering if they could be following me. I have no way to know but I wonder because, well, why would they if I cut ties with them, right? I don't have a problem with it at all if they are. I'm just a little confused but mostly curious. If they are following me, is it because they're looking for their name or because they really do care about what's going on with me more than I gave them credit for? If it's because they care, this never seemed to come out in our chats unless I asked or told them something pertaining to me.

Sometimes I feel bad for speaking up and bailing out but then I felt I owed them my honesty, and well, I just happen to like mutual connections. There have been people where everything is all about them and then there have people who have been interested in what's going on with me and always asked questions, and while I was flattered, they would never give any information about themselves and that frustrated me.

Anyway, what's done is done. I certainly didn't mean to hurt anyone's feelings intentionally and I know I wrote some unkind things in my journal in the heat of the moment but hey, that's what one's journal is for. Whether they're following me or not I hope life is going well for them.

On the way to the ENT’s office to sign the consent forms. Appointments, appointments, appointments…it never ends!

Not as tired as yesterday, but sleep was still a little fraggy. Stress, I guess. Hopefully, it will improve after surgery. Air escaped my mouth once due to making sure I was more elevated so as not to have breathing issues.

The only dream I remember was walking with a woman through some underground tunnel. Eventually, I turned around to see that she was no longer behind me. I then became worried that an animal had gotten hold of her. Sure enough, a mountain lion suddenly appeared, slowly creeping toward me. I ran out of instinct and into our kitchen, which was where the tunnel led to. However, the door to the tunnel was only a screen, so Tom beat the thing with a stick until it turned into a typical domestic cat, LOL.

I asked Becky how often she changes her frame and mask. She changes the frame yearly and the mask every 6 months. So I just changed both and won’t change the frame till 2027 or the mask until July.

Decided to give up on Melanie and Toni. They just don’t seem invested in the friendship, but I get that a big part of that is having kids. Besides, they’ve been ignoring me more and more, and I’ve gotten really big on not reaching out to those who don’t reach out to me. Besides, we just don’t have the commonalities that Aly and I had. Aly made time for me. These people don’t. I didn’t block them on Facebook, but I got rid of our group chat, deleted them, unfollowed Melanie on YouTube, and blocked them both on PB. There’s a reason for that last move, and that’s because I miss writing there publicly (not as much as I share with friends elsewhere) and seeing who comes around but without comments. I wouldn’t have wanted to prevent them from commenting, and I also don’t want comments from just anyone. I’m just a writer who doesn’t mind being read by strangers but has lost her desire for additional socializing and unwanted advice. 

Heading home now. I signed the consent forms that could have been signed online, answered a few questions—surprisingly, it was only a few—and they assured us they would call Rhonda’s office and clarify things, and that was all I needed to do. So all that’s left to do is pay the outrageous fee that should be on the government, await the text telling me what time I need to be at the hospital, then show up.

Still torn on the imaging thing, though I’ve got time to decide. Sure, I’m curious about the CAC score, though I don’t think it would be bad, and I definitely have no fears of anything sinister showing up in the mammogram. The only potential problem is that if I were wrong and surprised by something negative turning up, how would I explain to Rhonda that I'm not going to do anything about it? Then again, do I really need to explain anything to anyone? No would be no, and she'd just have to respect my decision.

Later... OMFG, I am so fucking pissed! What started as 3 appointments has now turned into 6! No sooner had we left the ENT and were crossing the parking lot to get in the car and head to the charger, when I said—in response to Tom saying all we had to do was wait for surgery—that I wasn’t sure about that since they kept sneaking in appointments. Well, we got to the charger just to get a phone call directly from Rhonda. Not only do I have to go to the fucking lab tomorrow for blood work and a urinalysis, but I also have to see her at 7:30 Monday morning.

I appreciate her squeezing me in that early, but OMFG! When is it ever going to end?! This is killing me. I went from appointments every month to every week and now every day. What other surprises are going to be thrown at us along the way? I just don’t understand why they couldn’t be better coordinated, but apparently, Rhonda has to give her own clearance, just like the hospital.

I am SO stressed out and seriously feeling punished for having health issues, and like something is trying to stop me from having surgery. I swear to God, if I get my surgery and it doesn’t work, or the sleep disturbances continue along with the fatigue, or I get something else debilitating, I am so not dealing with it. I’m dead. In a heartbeat. No ifs, ands, or buts. Twelve years of health issues, and I can't take anymore.

So no, I’m not doing the imaging, free or not. I would not only not want to deal with Rhonda pressuring me to get treatment if something showed up, but if something did, I wouldn't want to know about it. I just want to live until I no longer can. Meanwhile, the stress is killing me, and the pressure to keep staying up later and later to make appointments is also a killer.

Written before lunchtime: Heading for my pre-op appointment, and I'm horribly tired. I knew I would be. The further away or longer my appointments are, the more tired I am. Fucking nose woke me up again, and I had to take an extra melatonin to get back to sleep. The rest of my sleep was restless. I kept waking up and was also going from hot to cold.

Slept a little better the previous night. I don't know, maybe Claritin helps more than I realize. I'll take it before bed tonight, but only half of the clonazepam. That way, I can take the other half when something wakes me up. Might leave me less groggy than melatonin.

I had some interesting dreams a couple of nights ago. First, I was trapped in a tiny bare room somewhere in Bermuda. It had wooden walls and floors. The room started filling with smoke, and I was struggling to get the door open. Finally, the door opened, and the passersby seemed completely oblivious to my plight.

Then we were somewhere in Montenegro.

Then I broke into Nane's apartment. I love it when I dream of her, even though most of the dreams involving her are negative. She's just never happy to see me, any more than she would be in real life. She had good reason to be mad at me last time around, though. She had a small studio apartment, and I somehow got into it when she was out and was checking out her place. By her desk stood at least half a dozen framed photos of her at various ages in life, which I took to be a sign of her narcissism. Suddenly, the door opened up, and there she was, furious as ever. She wasted no time pouncing on me, screaming something about Germany, which I assumed meant I was really screwed for my little B&E endeavor.

I feel like it's pre-2012 again, only with an older, fatter, unhealthier body but a better house and climate. That's because the money struggles are back again. If only healthcare were free in the US! It's going to suck every last dime out of us, preventing us from ever getting ahead. I swear, though, the next health issue, I'm just going to live with it if it isn't debilitating, and kill myself if it is. I've had it with suffering, appointments, and putting Tom out. I asked him if he'd still marry me if he'd known I'd have so many health problems. "Of course," he said, and that's really sweet of him, though I still feel bad. I feel bad for both of us. Retirement, especially when you're still in your 60s, should be fun, relaxing, and easy living. Not full of this shit.

And why, oh why, does it have to take so long to get care in the first place? It shouldn't have taken me so long to get back on the CPAP, even if part of that was my fault, and it shouldn't take this long to get my nose dealt with either.

Another thing that annoys the fuck out of me is having to answer the same 50 questions over and over again. I thought I was just going to schedule my pre-op yesterday. Instead, I did that, then had to wait for a nurse to call me, and spent an hour going over my meds and health history when they already have that information. I wouldn't have to go in today if it weren't for my fucking heart. Even though it's been a few years since I was tested and everything was always fine, they want to do an EKG.

On top of all the health work, we have to stop by the ENT's office on the way back to sign surgery consent forms. Now, why the hell couldn't that be done electronically? I just don't understand why everyone's so afraid to do things online. Why wouldn't you want to make your life easier?

Later... We're now charging at what has to be the emptiest emergency room we've ever seen. No one was there! We went in to use the bathrooms.

I downloaded the Spotify app, but it turns out my phone's jack isn't for the headphones I wanted to use. This sucks, since the roads sound like war zones with all the loud vehicles and boom car stereos. It's fucking ridiculous but never changes.

I don't know why, but VZ has been having back-to-back challenges. I liked it better when there were just a few a year. Kept it more special that way. At least this one seems to have fewer dumpy locations. There's a ride in Verona, two in the UK, and two in Russia.

According to Penana, where I have all my journals, memoir and stories, I've written over 10.4 million words!

Threw a chicken thigh in the cooker before we left. We'll be out for 6 hours or more. It's on low and can stay in there up to 8 hours.

Later… Charging at the hospital again after the pre-op appointment. Surprised I was in and out as fast as I was. Not only that, but everyone I dealt with today and on the phone was from here. Anyway, she took my temperature, blood pressure, and did the EKG. Everything looked good. She sent me off with a special antibacterial soap to use the day before surgery and instructions. It's the usual stuff you should and shouldn't do before surgery.

Later… Just finished charging at the hospital for a second time and are on the road again. Got some snacks from their vending machine after using the bathrooms again. We needed these treats!

It's been a horribly long, stressful, and exhausting day, and my TMJ is really acting up today. At least Tylenol is helping with that since I can't take ibuprofen, which I'm used to taking, until after surgery.

Tom had to use his own charger in the parking garage because we couldn't find the one that was supposed to be there. Then we had to charge at a nearby car dealership when we had enough juice to get there before stopping at the hospital. Traffic is a nightmare, and the roads sound like a war zone, as I said.

No time to stop at the ENT today to sign the forms, so I called to let them know we'd be in tomorrow. Then I get a message from Rhonda's office saying they got consent forms but didn't know what they were asking consent for, and said to either call them back or contact the ENT. We'll mention it to the ENT tomorrow.

Right now, I just want to get home, eat my chicken, add more Tylenol to the Walmart order, and be done with this whole fucked-up day. Can't have any NSAIDs, vitamins, melatonin, and a few other things until after surgery. At least I can take clonazepam.

Damn, though! We haven't even been here 5 years, yet we're going to be two for two, each having surgery twice, even if his was much easier.

Twenty minutes from home now. One down, three to go. Well, supposedly three to go, since they keep adding appointments. Originally, I didn't know I would have to have a pre-op appointment, and I didn't know I would have to sign forms that I could have signed online.

So Toni's in Florida now, and she didn't tell me she was coming down. I don't know how close she is to us, but that doesn't matter, as I'm not sure she and Melanie are really invested in friendship. I think Melanie's too sensitive to some of our different views on things, and that both of them just don't have much extra time for socializing since they have little kids.

Damn, do I wish I could go back in time when Aly and I were close, along with the version of Kim I knew before she went completely crazy on me. And of course, back to when Nane was part of my life, judgmental and hypocritical or not. Weird how so much of the time I miss our chats and wonder about her life and have thrown her into so many of my stories, but not Maliheh. Maliheh, I don't give a damn about, and I rarely think of her. I know I shouldn't give a damn about Nane either, but the more shit I go through these days, the more I miss some past aspects of my life. I'll never stop missing Aly, no matter what my life is like.

Anyway, I feel like Melanie is pulling away. She unfriended me on PB, and I doubt it's due to the fact that I haven't been using it publicly or even with friends; she takes time to get back to me on Messenger, and her answers have been pretty abrupt. I feel the urge to delete her, Toni, and the silent “Parker.”

As I said, I get that she and Toni don't have much free time, and I miss having mostly childless friends. Yet here we are living in a time when more women than ever don't have kids, yet I have very few friends who don't have any living at home, which makes regular check-ins and chats less consistent. The only one that is consistent is Todd, and that's great. But due to being intellectually challenged, it's hard to have deep, meaningful conversations with him any more than I could with Kim or Molly.

In general, I'm becoming less and less sociable online. I guess this is mostly due to wanting what I can't have back, and that's Aly. Nor will I ever have anyone like her. I realize I've got to stop hoping to be surprised in that department. Melanie and Toni and I just don't have the kinds of commonalities Aly and I had. They're not into creative writing, for ex.

Got a storm rolling through now, so I'm glad I'm still up. Still super stressed about tomorrow and if and when I can get that damn pre-op appointment scheduled!

Wish I could have more alone time, too. I love Tom, but this always home, always together—unless I'm up when he's donating or asleep—gets to be a bit much for me.

What's better about my life today? This is something I've been asking myself and trying to focus on to get a better outlook on things, but the fact is, I can't always tell myself things will be OK and that they'll work out with the kind of confidence Tom has. I wish I could make myself feel and believe whatever at will, but I just can't. Nonetheless, I don't have the kind of killer anxiety I used to have, and I definitely have a quieter place to live, which is great, but other than that, I feel like I don't have much going for me in the way of anything new or exciting or that feels like I'm making progress and getting ahead. I just don't see many new experiences or anything. I only see money woes and health issues.

I am so frustrated now that I literally want to scream! Life looks so bleak. I am simply not looking forward to the rest of my life, but I'm forced to live it for his sake. Can't go until he does, unless surgery doesn't change anything, and I remain tired most of the time. What's got me so stressed out right now isn't just the pre-op that hasn't been scheduled yet, but the fact that he's got to donate tomorrow because, as he says, it's the only way we're going to eat. Well, the problem is I won't be up then, since I'm not allowed to have a normal schedule in this life, and that's when they're most likely to call again. Hopefully, one of us will be able to call them back and not get that stupid recording saying the person we're trying to reach is busy. This is more critical than the gallbladder was. I need my nose fixed once and for all so I can hopefully - hopefully - sleep better. I did have a dream that both my nose and tooth were being done, so hopefully that's a good sign. I just worry I'm not going to get scheduled on time for surgery. If there's something cursing my sleep, wouldn't it do all it could to delay surgery?

Then there are the transportation and charging issues to worry about, and then there's the big picture—the fact that so many retirees are low-income and can't save shit. Reality is really sinking in. It's really hitting me that we truly aren't going to get ahead in life. Not in this country. If I'd only known better, I would have tried to get the fuck out of here decades ago, even if it wasn't to an ideal climate, so that health expenses wouldn't suck every last time out of us. Seriously, anything we save is going to have to go to my health or things that break. Saving for home improvements, trips, electronics, and other fun stuff is just a dream. I've already thrown away my wish list, or whatever you want to call it. As soon as we make plans, something comes up regarding my health or something expensive breaks.

As I said, I'm not looking forward to the rest of my life at all. I wish I could delude myself with the false optimism Tom has, but I just can't, given what the facts are. All I see are health and money struggles for the rest of my life, and I really have to wonder what the hell it's going to be like as we get even older and we both get slammed with health issues.

So last night I fell asleep with just melatonin, and I'm not sure if my nose woke me up or if I woke up and then realized my nose was very stuffy, but I got up and took Claritin even though it likely didn't do me any good, and had trouble falling back asleep, so I took half a clonazepam. Again, this wouldn't have had any effect on my energy levels 20 or 30 years ago, but I've gotten too old to handle these regular sleep disturbances, so now I'm left tired all fucking day, and trying to push my schedule forward to make surgery easier is going to be even harder on me. So lots and lots of stress on me. In my adult life, I went from money problems to legal problems, back to money problems, to health problems, and now it's health and money problems.

I made Mia be Mia again with her original looks—light skin, dark brown eyes, and overall Italian looks.

Using AI, I finally figured out how to customize backgrounds on LJ! Can't see it on the mobile app, though. Only the website.

Started making Penana stories visible that are six months or older because that way they don't get as much attention and therefore not as many spam comments.

So fucking pissed at myself! The hospital tried to call twice yesterday to set up my pre-op appointment, and I missed the calls. Tom says everything is fine and they'll get me in in the afternoon, which would be easier for me given what my schedule will be next week, but I'm gonna stress about it until I'm scheduled. Even so, it's ridiculous and unnecessary because they should have enough records saying that I'm good for surgery. I shouldn't need to go through any pre-op bullshit. I'm tired of filling out the same old paperwork over and over again and answering the same old questions over and over again as well. Gotta do the pre-registering for the surgery as well, which I'm sure will take a while. I spend almost as much time doing paperwork as going to the actual appointments. I'm just so sick of all the health work that constantly needs to be done, and I wish I could have just one week off from the constant appointments.

The only good news is that I've made enough to be able to cover most of, if not all of, the crown I'll need after my nose is dealt with. The fucking bastard woke me up last night again, and I swear if surgery doesn't fix this problem, I'm so done with this life! I've really got to resist the urge to lie on my stomach in my sleep because that's when I'm most likely to have breathing problems. I just sleep so much sounder that way.

I cut my hair a couple of days ago just above my shoulders. I just don't have the patience to deal with long hair. When you dye it all the time like I do and are older, your hair becomes a lot harder to manage when it's longer.

Decided I like single-wick candles instead of triple-wick candles. The candles last longer with single wicks and give off less heat.

Yesterday turned out to be a shitty day. First, I get a call from the woman who handles the finances regarding my upcoming surgery, and she tells me it's going to be a little over $400. So just when I start to get excited that we're not going to max out the out-of-pocket cost of $1200, she goes on to tell me that that's only the doctor's fee. The hospital fee would likely be two or three times that much. 

Then my day gets shittier when she starts talking about a pre-op appointment. I shouldn't be so surprised, and this would be fine if it weren't for my schedule. I'm going to have to get up in the middle of my sleep for this and then try to get back on track for surgery. So the next few weeks are going to be incredibly hard on me, and better be worth it in the end. I wish I could snap my fingers and jump ahead to March 3rd!

Tom scared the shit out of me yesterday, and I feel like it was my fault. Just like most people can't handle complaints, he can't handle my stress very well. It's contagious, apparently. I stepped into his room to find him sprawled out on the bed, saying his left arm hurt, and he lost feeling in his hand. Fortunately, it was just caused by stress, and according to what I looked up, stress can cause that to happen. He didn't have any chest pain or any other symptoms with it. I've had a million symptoms from stress and anxiety, but never that one. The thing that shook me the most about it was the reminder that this would one day be a reality. He may not necessarily die of a heart attack, and I don't know if it will be sudden or if we'll know it's coming, but sooner or later - someday - I'm going to have to face that horrible moment when I lose him, and then be forced to follow him for the same two reasons I've always known I would have to. Because I couldn't manage without him, and I couldn't stand the loneliness and depression either. I just wish he wouldn't be so rude when he doesn't feel well and snap at me like he does. I don't do that to him. At least not like he does with me.

I took 5 mg of melatonin with clonazepam and definitely slept better, but my fucking nose shorted my sleep. Fortunately, I was able to nap a little later. I don't want to get my hopes up too high, but Tom was pointing out that perhaps my nose is what's been causing my apnea all along. Well, I know the snorting isn't normal for me. Not one to usually get off easy, I think I more than likely did develop sleep apnea with age and weight gain, but the turbinate reduction should reduce the snorting. I don't think I'll ever get out of needing a CPAP, but I might eventually be able to nap without one. The fatigue started before I noticed my nose getting stuffy. My only other concern is after they do the turbinate reduction, since they're not going to repair my valves, does this mean I wouldn't be able to breathe well with a mouthguard? Because it would definitely be in my best interest to try to get a mouthguard before the year is out, since it won't cost us anything, since we will have hit the out-of-pocket max.

Anyway, I had a dream that there was a little tumor embedded in my skin. In reality, I may have an AK spot on my thigh. It's the least of my concerns now, but I may eventually show it to Rhonda and see what she thinks. 

I'm down a pound and a half, but I can't believe I'm going to lose much more or keep off what I've lost. 

So that was rain that woke me up earlier, since apparently, even my naps are cursed, and I have to be woken up from those along with regular sleep. This was judging by how wet it was when I went out back. I went to check on the fairy figurine I put out there. She's still sitting pretty, holding her crystal even though it's not glued down. Anyway, I only had the air cleaner on, and rain can be heard over that if it's hard enough. From now on, I have to turn on the entire ensemble when I want to sleep or nap, not that it still won't be cursed anyway.

I messaged the ENT and let him know that while I totally get that he may have no choice but to operate on me at 11:00 as listed, earlier is better for me if possible.

Still with the fragmented sleep, but last night was the last night taking 3.5 mg of melatonin. Tonight it will be 5 mg. If that's not enough, I'll go to 10. If that's still not enough, then obviously there's nothing I can do about it. I still say I'm just not meant to sleep well most of the time. Didn't get much REM sleep, so maybe that's a factor in today's fatigue.

At least I had an interesting dream involving Nane. We moved into her building in Munich, of all places, and I made sure to get the vacant apartment next to hers. One day, while Tom was out wherever, I could hear the faint strains of music coming through the wall. The singer wasn't singing in German, but it wasn't a language I recognized, and I figured that, knowing her, it was likely Turkish or Greek. I thought of going over there and asking her to turn it down to see if she would recognize me, and then denying I had any idea she was our neighbor if she did.

Why, oh why, doesn't Facebook have an option to disallow friend requests from everybody? It's either allow them from everybody or from friends of friends. First, I've got Nancy friending me, who hasn't made the slightest attempt to interact with me in any way, and now a friend of hers sent me a friend request. Looks like it might be a cloned account, though I can't tell for sure. I left a note in the group saying that if we haven't talked before, one of us has already deleted the other, or the account looks suspicious, I'm not adding you!

As a true crime junkie, I follow a lot of crime news, particularly when it comes to female criminals. There's this pediatrician, named Neha Gupta, who was fired, who had a four-year-old daughter and a bitter custody battle going on with the kid's father. She had already lost a huge amount of money in court to the guy. So she came from Oklahoma to Florida and rented an Airbnb where she claimed her daughter drowned in the pool in the middle of the night. Only problem was that the kid's lungs and stomach were dry, and there was bruising inside the mouth suggestive of smothering. 

Okay, help me out here. How the hell can a doctor, of all people, not know that drowning victims always have water in the lungs? And how could she not know that there would be evidence of smothering? I can't believe she could possibly be that dumb, so my only guess is that she wanted to go to prison. I think she got fed up with everything—from life to the kid to the ex—and decided to give it all up and turn her life over to prisons to feed and house her without interference from the kid or ex. I'm sure part of it was also spite toward the ex. Florida has the death penalty, so she may get a lot more than just a break from the outside world on sentencing day. I think they should kill her. Why should the taxpayers pay to feed and house her for the rest of her life?

That brings me to another subject Tom and I were debating the other day. He's against the death penalty, saying that even DNA can be disputed, as a rapist can always claim sex was consensual. They always do, too, but there's usually other evidence to back up the victim's story. I'm both for it and not. Yes, those convicted of violent crimes, whether they include a sexual element or not, should be killed because society simply doesn't need animals like that or to spend money caring for them for the rest of their lives. Besides, sex offenders can't be rehabilitated. 

On the other hand, as a documentary I've been watching on YouTube has shown, life in prison can be a much harsher punishment than death. The show listed all the shit they have to put up with, and having done six months of county time, I can say for sure, without a doubt, that everything they said was 100% true. So it's great that Krista Pike got to eat shitty food, have subpar healthcare, cold showers, listen to nonstop screaming and yelling, sleep on uncomfortable beds, be told what to do, and have no say in where she goes, what she eats, what she wears, etc., but now it's definitely time to go, so I really hope they uphold her execution date next fall.

Yesterday was an absolutely shitty day. I had trouble breathing through my nose, which disrupted my sleep and left me exhausted and also in a shitty mood. So Tom looked at more detailed info than MyAir gives using a free app called OSCAR, and it did show I was struggling to breathe at the time I remember it happening.

I slept better last night, but didn’t get enough deep sleep and woke up exhausted again. But after I took a nap, it helped a lot. That was a good thing too, since I had a dentist appointment today. I’m just really pissed and frustrated because they have me down for a special deep-cleaning plan, which is not covered on my current dental plan, so we learned, and we had to pay $65 instead of $10. On top of that, a tooth I suspected needed a crown definitely does need a crown. It’s my back bottom molar next to the one she pulled. It has a large filling that’s very cracked, and it’s important that I don’t lose this tooth; otherwise, the cost would triple because then I would need a root canal or an implant.

The problem is we’re already going to owe about a grand for my fucking nose! Why does everything have to happen at once?! With laughing gas, the crown would cost about $500. I’m getting almost as sick of these money games as I am these health issues. I told Tom that as long as I’m alive, I’m going to be a regular health burden that’s going to suck up a ton of money (besides keeping my suffering going), and I keep offering to change that so he can actually enjoy his retirement and save money, but he keeps rejecting the idea. He says we’ve got a roof over our head and food and all that, and he’s right. We do have this. But at the same time, we’re poor and struggling just like we were before the end of 2011. We’re just not doing it in the mainstream and living in a dump or living like bums.

Anyway, I liked this cleaning lady, Stephanie, better than the foreign lady because she’s easy to understand, and she didn’t pressure me to hurry up and schedule my next cleaning. We’re going to have to get me back on the standard cleaning plan, though, so that it’s covered. I’m tired of this half-ass coverage bullshit, too. What’s the point of insurance if hardly anything is covered?

On the bright side, Stephanie's daughter and others she knows have had turbinite reductions done and said it makes a huge difference.

Now we might not be able to afford to rent a car on surgery day, and with the odds of my not only being up 18 hours or more that day but also being exhausted, that’s going to make the day longer and harder.

Tom said the honker was mean to his dog because he was bathing the thing while it was cold. Yeah, that’s something I could see him doing. His convenience would matter more than the mutt’s comfort. I always thought it was a bit mean of him not to take it on walks, especially as big as it is. It’s only allowed to run around outside his place when he lets it out to shit, and that isn’t much space. Again, he would put his own life and fun first. Still can’t believe how quiet he’s been this year, but there are still two months left to go.

I've decided that this is it. If surgery doesn't improve my sleep and restore my energy, I'm gone. Just gone. So, so fucking sick of hopelessly suffering and struggling to figure out and fix what goes wrong with me! So... I've got one more shot at reclaiming my life.

Slept horribly. My sleep was fragmented and broken up. It finally hit me that part of that was my fault. For some reason, I got it in my mind that the melatonin gummies I currently have were half of 5 mg, but they’re actually half of 1 mg. Rhonda recommended 5 to 10 mg in conjunction with my clonazepam, and I’ve actually been only taking 1 to 1.5 mg. That’s how fucked up my brain has been lately. I’m just not sure if it’s sheer stupidity or because of the damage the years of sleep deprivation caused. I’ll soon be getting gummies that are 5 mg each. Before bed, next time around, I’m going to have to take 10 of them.

At one point, I had a horrible nightmare. I don’t know where we were living. The place seemed a little bigger than this and like something we had just moved into after living in a duplex. It looked like an older on-siter but still had this crappy Berber carpet. Tom was still working, and it was early in the morning. The sun hadn’t come up yet, and I was annoyed that Tom left all the lights on before he left. I was just waking up, turned the lights off, and slipped back into bed for a bit longer when I heard movement inside the house. I told myself it was just as safe there as the other place, even though deep down I wasn’t so sure. I hoped maybe Tom had returned for some reason, but before I could call out to him, I saw the shadowy profile of someone who definitely wasn’t Tom. They were very thin and tall with a hooked nose, and I woke up with my heart pounding before I could decide how to react. I guess that would have been a tie between running and locking myself in the bathroom versus charging and surprising the person.

It seems like there was one positive dream after this where we traveled somewhere. Then I got up for an hour or so and returned to sleep for a long nap.

Decided to go back to regular updates with Mia and have fun climbing the levels like I’m doing with my Arrows game. Wasn’t sure whether or not to stick with a realistic or legacy avatar. Guess I’ll stick with legacy for now because the realistic ones aren’t available yet on desktops, where it's easier to check in, change clothes, etc. I wanted an avatar different than the mates, so I made her Black with purple hair and eyes.

If my weight gain is due to age, my hands are tied. If it’s due to having too many carbs and cals, I can fix it—or at least try to. Remember, playing all my cards right is only gonna get me so far in my case.

I don’t know if I’ll have the brain power to do another chapter in my book. I still like to work on it when I can, but instead of doing romantic suspense, I do crime fiction these days.

The farro cup I had was good and took some time to eat. AI said it’s lacking in protein and I should add some tuna to it.

A woman named Nancy, who lives here, requested to add me for some reason. I’m trying to think if she’s the one who stopped and said hello one time recently when I was pulling in the trash bin, but I’m not sure. She almost seemed to want to talk more, but I wasn’t in the mood, or was tired or in a hurry. I reacted to one of her posts, and we’ll see if she ever comments or reacts to any of my stuff.

Since I don’t seem to have any actual allergies here and my problem did turn out to be structural, the less I want to leave the state, because I do love this climate. I don’t like the cold, but the cold is very short-lived here, so I can deal with it. Sure, I wish we had a bigger, newer house wherever it was, and sure, I’ll always miss some aspects of country living, but it’s not worth the hassle and expense at our ages and on a fixed income.

There’s another reason I don’t want to change states. That’s because every time I do, I acquire a new problem. Moving to Arizona brought sneezing fits. Moving to Oregon brought on TMJ. Moving to California brought on all kinds of nightmares, particularly anxiety. Coming here, it’s nose issues. I’m sure I would have had these problems anyway, but still.

I decided to forge ahead with Queen of Blackmail after reviewing chapter summaries and scanning the short 13 chapters I have so far that amount to about 11k words. It’s so great to finally not only have more energy, but to pull out of the writer’s block I got stuck in a few years ago. I put the story on hold because I just couldn’t think of what to do next with it. But an idea came to me earlier, so I’m going to run with it and see where it goes.

I didn’t do an Ash therapy session tonight because not much is going on, but I did a Space. I’ve mostly been talking about current events, but I still plan to backtrack a bit and talk about my past here and there.

Mentally, my mood has been a million times better now that I know help is right around the corner. Still a little worried about the cost. If I could stop having medical issues and expensive things could stop breaking, that would really help. I feel like we’ll never get ahead. We just don’t get enough to save enough. Oh well. As long as the necessities are obtainable.

I’m trying not to get too excited at the thought of getting healthier because I still fear being hit with a whole new problem. But already, partly thanks to Rhonda’s suggestion of pairing melatonin with clonazepam, I feel more alive and productive. Even my brain is working better. I can think much more clearly and quickly now.

I did a little more research and found that the Google alert with my name wasn’t necessarily because someone searched for me, which is why an account belonging to someone else with my name came up. It was simply indexing something it considered new. Chat gave me tips to find more up-to-date mentions, so I’ll go update Google Alerts.

Now that I'm done editing old stories, I think I figured out where to go with the rest of my blackmail story—the one where Natasha lives in Florida and goes overseas to meet Christiane and Nane in Leipzig and Munich, and the last story these people will ever be in.

She films Nane accidentally killing that crazy woman in Turkey. Nane tells Natasha that she knows she’s wanted in the US for embezzlement. So they end up blackmailing each other, and eventually Nane has a techie friend strip the damning video from Natasha’s phone after hacking into it. She now assumes that Natasha has no leverage over her and decides, why not make a buck off her rather than turn her in? So she sells her on the dark web, but before Natasha can be forced into any services, she escapes after she’s taken away to Berlin. She returns to Munich to surprise and get revenge on Nane before returning home.

Another hot chocolate kind of night. Another week or so and our winter is over, and we’ll be back in the 70s. At least it’s not going to drop well into the 30s tonight. It’s going to be around 47 degrees.

Slept better the night before last and got a lot done. I’m just about done editing and proofreading old stories. In the future, I probably won’t put anything on FicFan until it’s completely finished. Oddly enough, people are subscribing to books I’ve clearly listed as finished. Oh well. It’s not hurting anything—just a little strange. I’m guessing they didn’t notice it was finished. I don’t know how things appear on the subscriber’s end, nor is there any way to see who likes, follows, or reads.

Didn’t sleep well last time around. I didn’t take anything before bed, but sure enough, my nose woke me up, and there was a long break in my sleep. The good news is that help should be coming this month. Yes, this month! If I’d only known that, it would have eased a ton of my stress. I could have had it done as early as the 17th, but my schedule won’t be good for that, so it’s tentatively looking like the 24th. Then, about a week later, I’ll be having a follow-up to get the stents removed. I hate having to go down to Tampa for both of these procedures and dealing with chargers. Part of me wishes we’d moved there, even though we hate crowds. We would just have so much more stuff so much closer to us, since it’s unlikely we’re ever going to be able to afford a new battery for our car.

I also wonder if this would have happened to my nose had we not come here, or if Florida caused it. I guess that’s something I can ask the doctor if I remember to and there’s time. I don’t just feel bad for myself and the suffering it’s caused me, but I feel bad for Tom because he has the stress of having to schedule things, get the money ready, and deal with all the driving and transportation. So I feel guilty, even though I certainly didn’t ask for this shit. I still worry that there’s a curse on my sleep too, and that other things will replace the sleep disturbances caused by the nasal issues. That, and acquiring a new 4- to 8-year health problem. It would be great if I could be like Tom. He’s felt so much better in his 60s than he did in his 50s. Well, I’ve definitely suffered since I was 48 years old, and I’d say 12 years is enough. If anyone deserves a break, it’s me. I would love to be able to just live in peace for the rest of my life. I swear, though, if I’d known what I know now, I would have ended it as soon as we got back from Maui and spared myself so much torture. But I’ve come this far, and hopefully this will be it for a good long while when it comes to the health shit.

It just sucks that this country never has had, and likely never will have, universal health care. We’re too obsessed with independence here for that. No one wants to help anyone. Because of it, my health is going to cost us quite a bit for the rest of our lives. We just can’t make enough to save enough to ever enjoy any local excursions, let alone hop overseas to Jamaica for a few days or something like that. Money really is the root of all evil. People have a right to make as much money as they can, but at the same time, it just seems so unfair that some people get to hoard millions and even billions of dollars while others struggle.

Alexa Plus is now available, but sure enough, she won’t read my Kindle books. I hate it when they take away features! Adding features is fine, but taking away handy features that many could use and appreciate really sucks. So for now, we’re sticking with the original version until it’s phased out completely and we’re forced to upgrade.

If it were me they were looking for, I’m still racking my brain trying to guess who could have Googled my name. Does Vanessa even know my last name? My first guesses still lie with Tammy or Andy, but who knows? Maybe it was my ENT or Rhonda. They’re the last people I would guess, though, and again, that’s assuming it was me they were looking for. But my name isn’t common, and I only know of two other people with it, so that’s a one-in-three chance right there.