Vanessa spent 3 hours combing my LJ blog last night. Looking for something? Is she interested in what’s going on with me after all, or just looking for her name?

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 Melanie unfriended me on PB, and Vanessa's been looking for me on LJ. I wonder why. That's okay, though, because I intend to use PB as a private backup only. That site is just too active for my taste.

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.

This is the second day in a row I’ve been shorted an hour or so of sleep. Yesterday, my mask slipped, and today it was my nose. Otherwise, I slept well between half a clonazepam and melatonin. The only downside to the days I have energy—and even some of the days I don’t—is the difficulty falling asleep after being up a reasonable amount of time. Hopefully, I won’t always have to take something to fall asleep, but if I do, I will.

I still worry there’s a curse on my sleep and that there’s no getting around it. It would be totally awesome if the procedure, which they still haven’t called to schedule—assuming they’re waiting on approval from my insurance—could eliminate the nose issues, and then a mouthguard could eliminate the CPAP issues, bringing it down to just storms, nightmares, power failures, and potential projects. It will be interesting to see if replacement disturbances occur once these are eliminated. There are no guarantees I’ll ever be able to get a mouthguard, though. That’s going to depend on how well the ENT can open my nose and if insurance will pay for it. Hopefully, I won’t wake up until my body is ready the next time around.

I’ve always hated being unable to work and make money, yet at the same time, I’m so glad I don’t have to be forced to be awakened by an alarm most days and then forced to interact with people I probably wouldn’t like, since I don’t care for people in general.

Since it was on sale for just $9, and I was at least making pretty decent money on Prolific, I got one of Woodwick’s Precious Metals candles, which is fairly new. There are eight in this line. I got the Marine Amber. It’s kind of hard to describe. I guess it’s mildly flowery.

Just a quick entry before Tom gets back. He’s gone to drop off my Cologuard kit and then pick us up some Domino’s for a treat. Besides, he’s kind of out of food until Walmart delivers tomorrow.

The ENT’s office did get back to me in response to my message over the portal, but of course, they had to call rather than reply on the portal. Luckily, Tom was up and caught the call because I didn’t get up until 10:30. I would have actually slept another hour if my fucking mask hadn’t slipped and started hissing. Seriously, I can’t go one fucking week without something waking me up. Just one week.

Anyway, they called for two reasons. They wanted to make sure I would be OK with going elsewhere other than where I usually see him because they need to do the turbinate reduction in a hospital, since my nose is tiny. He confirmed that it would be no problem. Getting knocked out is the fun part. It’s the money that’s not.

Little Miss Be Happy was kind enough to knock on the door and tell Tom that we have a leaky sprinkler valve in back. At least that’s who we think it is, based on what she said. She didn’t give her name but said she lives a couple of doors down, gesturing in the direction she lives. I said thanks to the lady who alerted my husband to it, even though she didn’t give a name, and posted it in the park group, but there’s been no response, not that I expected one. She’s one of those people I’m OK with being on neutral terms with, but I definitely wouldn’t want to buddy up to her because she’s got too big a mouth. Then again, so do most of the people here. A couple of houses down in the other direction is a couple that’s nearly 90 years old and probably not out much.

This has given Tom the incentive to look into adding rock in back and along the side of the place, which would be great because that would keep the mowers farther from the bedroom when sleeping during the day. If it looks like something we can afford, he’ll go over and ask Ray if he’s OK with it going all the way up to his place, so there’s no room for them to squeeze through.

I want to get some play sand sometime to put in a metal bowl to put my candles in. This way, if there are any cracks due to faulty glass, it's safer.

The weather has been historically cold. It hasn’t been this cold in decades, at least from what I’m hearing. I don’t know if it’s an exaggeration or not, but what started off as seemingly the warmest winter since we’ve been here has turned into the coldest winter, and it’s not going to let up anytime soon. It’s better for sleeping, but I’m otherwise ready for Florida to get back to being Florida. It was ferociously windy yesterday, too.

I’m getting a little stressed as the week approaches, wondering if they’re going to follow through with contacting me about the nasal procedure—how far out they’re booked, how much it will cost, and whether it will be noticeably helpful.

The combination of clonazepam and melatonin that Rhonda recommended has helped me sleep better, but it doesn’t help when I flip onto my stomach in my sleep and smother my mask, waking myself up. If my head tilts downward too far or at a certain angle, this happens. I’m still making a point of keeping my head elevated too, just not too much. Making myself too uncomfortable won’t help.

If I could remember things better these days, I would have remembered that I was having a Cologuard test mailed to me. It’s the same one Galileo had me do when I was having stomach issues a few years ago.

Feeling the way I did the day I walked across the long parking lot to the bathrooms when we were charging showed me I really need to get in better shape, fatigued or not (although I’ve been feeling better these last few days), so Tom brought the treadmill back indoors, and I’m making a point of walking for a minute or two every hour. I need to do more exercise that’s going to elevate my heart rate more. The glider hardly counts.

Later...

I had an interesting chat with Kathy last night. We were laughing about our trolling days, and messing with Molly. I told her about one time when I anonymously reached out to Molly on Ask back when it existed, saying, “I’m Amanda, remember me?” She actually knew someone by that name, so I just went along with it. lol

Then Kathy told me she used to play with her using the name Janet Martinez. I thought about it and was like, Janet Martinez? Janet Martinez… That name sounded familiar. I looked it up in my 2013 journal and found that I mentioned someone by that name friending a friend of mine on Facebook, and automatically assumed it was Kim, who had used variations of the name. Or so I thought. Then I wondered: was it actually Kathy doing that? Kathy and I were still on good terms at that time, so I don’t know. More than likely, Kim saw the name and decided to use it.

Incredibly, the honker went two months without riding the motorcycle! I’m not sure if it’s because of an injury or if he’s just that busy, but it’s definitely nothing I can complain about. I still can’t believe he hasn’t done any projects yet, either. Maybe he realized he was pushing it and that it wasn’t a wise idea to go to some other country with people who didn’t like him and make a racket. If I went to another country and knew someone there didn’t like me, I’d be a little careful, too. It seems he’s not only busier but also wants to stay a little more out of sight and out of mind. That’s perfectly fine with me.

I’ve decided that I’m absolutely, finally, 100% done with being public in any way other than with my yearly memoir on PB, and I totally mean it this time. There’s always some rude, judgmental asshole out there that I don’t need to deal with. I commented on a comment someone left Toni, and I woke up to find: “Dear person I don’t know. I’m not going to engage in this with you, so best of luck in life.” Well then, why did they engage with me? Why couldn’t they just ignore me if they didn’t want to engage with me?

Anyway, PB is strictly going to be a private backup. I told Melanie and Toni that they, Todd, and a woman named Christine are going to be the only ones who can read my journal (the parts I’m willing to share) on Facebook, and that I’ve always preferred to have a small, close-knit circle of friends, and that’s it. I fucking hate people otherwise. Melanie totally understands and says she feels the same. She said she’s glad Toni and I have grown closer, and I was surprised to learn that they not only go back to the early 2000s in the Open Diary days, but they actually met in person. I told her about Aly and how our plans to meet went to hell between COVID and then her dying.

I’m also totally done with Tom being involved in my health, and he knows it and is okay with it since he’s the one who first opted out of it. What he’s so upset about just seems so damn silly to me. I mean, I get his point, but I don’t. I simply said what I felt was best to say at the moment and focused on what was bothering me most. Mechanical issues were bothering me most, not allergies.

So I went to all of the medical portals that may have his email address and number and switched it to mine. I’ve also decided that next year, I’ll have one of the people who pick insurance plans for people for free take the honors, and hope they pick something good, because I wouldn’t know where to begin, and this saves a lot of time and work for him. This way, he can be less involved, which is the goal anyway. I realize this is the way it should be anyway. Like it or not, right or wrong, it’s American culture. We’re supposed to be as independent as possible here.

I even took him off my emergency contacts, even though he didn’t seem too happy about that, because it was pointless. I’m almost never off anywhere by myself, since even if I had the energy to go out walking like I used to walk in the other park, I’m not going to do it in the middle of the night where there are coyotes.

Despite wading through a sea of online assholes, I’ve definitely met some interesting people. Toni has taught me that not all Muslims want to kill everyone who’s different, and she’s got me rethinking ICE along with some of the appalling videos I’ve been seeing. They’re killing anybody who gets in their way, regardless of race, color, nationality, or where they’re from. While I still don’t like the thought of millions of illegals coming here and burdening our resources, I totally agree with Toni when she said she’d rather that than some of the crazy laws going on these days. I agree! I’d take free healthcare any day if it meant tons of illegals camping out here. Like it or not, almost half the people aren’t from here anymore anyway. That’s why I bitch so often about having to deal with foreign accents. By the time we die, most people won’t be from here anymore.

Even Kathy, despite her anger issues and mean streak, has opened my eyes to seeing things differently through some of the memes she shares, especially the one about reactive abuse and keeping the peace. Who are you keeping the peace for? The person who’s being a problem, not you!

So when I thought of speaking up the next time I have to put up with the thump-thump of the redneck’s bass or whoever it really is, my first thought was, nah, just deal with it since they don’t do it every day and keep the peace. But no, it’s not his peace I’m going to put before mine, selfish or not. I’m not going to consider the peace of someone who is breaking the park rules and being rude while I have to sit there for hours, being annoyed. You don’t get the privilege of being rude while I get put out on account of it. Besides, I didn’t come here to make friends. I came here to live. If it isn’t him, it’s probably Mr. No-Poop.

I got my junk food box with my insurance points. I’m surprised I got it this fast. There’s a giant chocolate bar, some jelly beans, fruity bars wrapped in white chocolate, mini M&Ms, and candied pretzels.

Although it isn’t very many and it isn’t a big deal, I’m still surprised I have food allergies. I never would have guessed. Lobster isn’t that big of a deal because we can’t afford it anyway, and cashews and green peppers are simple enough to avoid. I would have been pissed if it came up telling me I was allergic to tilapia, cod, beef, pork, and chicken.

The ENT gave me papers not just on what I’m allergic to, but that also explains the different types of allergies and when, in Florida, they’re usually more of a problem. Not surprisingly, no one’s called to schedule the procedure. I’ll send a message via the portal.

I realized that in some ways, I actually got all my prayers answered. Well, sort of. I definitely didn’t feel well or have nearly as much energy as I would have liked on appointment days, but at least I did get through them. I got the one asking that they don’t finish the windows while I’m sleeping, and maybe, just maybe, I might get the one about getting my sleep back, my energy back, and my life back.

While it’s looking good, and it would be great if the procedure were enough and I wouldn’t have to have invasive surgery that costs a lot more, I’m afraid to get my hopes up too high. Until and if it’s done and I see that it helps, I don’t want to think too positively. I could still have CF, and I could still have a curse on my sleep. It’s certainly hard to believe things will change. If they do, the only thing that would dampen the happiness of my breathing issues being resolved would be worrying about when the next long-term problem was going to hit. It seems they last four to eight years. It’s just that the last two have been health-related rather than outside of my body.

Written on the 28th.

Heading for the ENT now. Not quite as tired, but bad enough. Every night, there's a long break in my sleep due to either stress or breathing issues, and it's slowly but surely killing me, especially when I can’t take anything to help get me back to sleep. If I don't like what I'm told today, or it doesn't help, or I've got many months before I can get help, I have to go. I don't want it to be like that. I don't want to die. But this is no way to live either. With my quality of life so severely reduced, it would only be a matter of time before I died anyway. So why not get it over quickly, rather than prolong my suffering, which will only get worse?

We’ve been unable to get a good seal on the hybrid mask, so I’m still with the nasal mask but having to sleep elevated. I’d kill for some of my old problems back! If I have to have problems, why can’t they be outside of my body? 

I’ve also had nightmares. Some were full of death, dying, and being trapped. I wonder if these are warnings.

In another nightmare, I was chased by a bear. I stepped out of a cabin by a lake we were either living in or staying in and glanced at a treeline nearby. Then I glanced at the lake, spotted a bear just as it spotted me, and it began swimming at breakneck speed across the lake toward me. I had just run inside and slammed the door shut right as it was coming up behind me.

Written on the 29th.

Back again the next day and on the way to the surgeon. I like that it’s a woman, but not that she’s all the way down in Tampa. Wish we had a gas car on appointment days! Or at least a hybrid. It’s been freezing as fuck, and I’d never guess I was in Florida if I didn’t know any better.

Anyway, yesterday was a long, rough, stressful, and exhausting day, and Tom’s attitude wasn’t helping. I wanted to be relieved and happy to be on my way to getting help. Instead, I almost felt guilty for trying to get care as quickly as possible. He drove me crazy, complaining about everything I said, calling me dramatic, and later complaining that I didn’t “stick to the plan,” and how he wanted to ask the doctor if my allergies contribute to the mechanical issues I’ve been having. But even the doctor agreed with and confirmed everything I believe, based on my symptoms and my research, that surgery is needed to fix this. He said they’d normally do a thing called turbinate reduction first, but wanted the surgeon’s opinion on the valves and other things. But Tom still got upset with me later, saying he wanted to deal with the allergies first, that’s why we went there, and pointed out how the doctor said it sounds like I want to deal with my nose first. Oh, I definitely do! I knew all along that this was the root cause of my problem. I just didn’t see the point in focusing too much on the allergies, since it was determined that they’re not that bad. Neither is the sleep apnea in comparison, though I still will see my main ENT later on to discuss that. He knows I want to get a mouth guard, not because I can’t tolerate the CPAP, but because of leaks. I guess he may want to conduct his own sleep study.

Anyway, the allergy testing turned up some surprises. I’m not allergic to ragweed, as I suspected, which was what I thought was blowing up my nose in Auburn. But I am allergic to live oak, and there were oak trees everywhere there. But why, then, didn’t I have problems in Citrus Heights? Maybe because there were fewer due to the constant cutting of trees there.

I’m also allergic to Bermuda grass. That’s what we had in Phoenix! I guess the stuff grows in the wild as well. Had to laugh at the mild mouse allergy, since we once had pet mice. Not surprisingly, I am severely allergic to a particular type of mold as well as cats. Well, she said “cot,” which confused me at first. Really, I am so, so fucking sick of every other medical person I deal with having some foreign accent I’m forced to struggle with! Still waiting for them to mandate speech therapy so patients can understand them.

I’m seeing an Asian surgeon and hoping that because she studied in Michigan, she’s from here, and I’ll be able to understand her. Tom will be off charging the car while I’m with her.

So, like I said, Tom got upset with me due to a misunderstanding I’m still not sure I get, and has decided to remove himself from my medical stuff entirely and just be my driver. Fine. Because when I get my next health problem, I’m either going to just live with it if it’s not robbing me of my sleep and life, or kill myself. I’m done with suffering, and I’m done with health issues and nonstop appointments.

At one point, I looked over at Tom to see a smile on his face, and I was like, what the fuck? Are you serious, man? You really think this is funny? But then I followed his gaze and realized he was watching this huge raccoon that was climbing on a bird feeder right outside the window. The doctor said he's out there every day, LOL. I thought they were nocturnal.

Backtracking a bit… The testing was long but not painful. A little itchy and stingy. She used both arms and not my back. After waiting 20 minutes for some of the tests and then 10 minutes for the other test, she used a plastic card with cut-out circles of varying sizes to measure the size of the raised bumps.

We could drive straight through to get there, but had to charge on the way back. This time we’ll have to charge both ways.

The ENT scoped me again without numbing me, though I survived just fine. He said he wanted to make sure he wasn’t missing anything, all the while talking medical jargon to his assistant (I could look it up on the portal), the same tall Asian dude as a year ago. Turns out I have three problems: a mildly deviated septum, turbinate issues, and nasal valves.

He said they usually do the turbinate reduction in the office, which is a relatively small procedure, but due to the other issues not being what he deals with, he referred me to another ENT who can nail all three at once if need be, as I said earlier. The problem is the surgeon isn’t at his place like Rhonda led me to believe. I mean, they do have surgeons, but obviously not the type I need, which Rhonda couldn’t have known, of course.

A couple of people posted about some coyote encounters here. One guy said a coyote jumped out from behind a fence. He then picked up his dog, and it watched them a moment before taking off further into the park. Another person said they were walking with someone with a dog, and it followed a bit. But was it interested in the dogs or the people?

Later… in the car at the charger after seeing the doctor. I had to wait a ridiculously long time, like over an hour. Tom was able to charge after I got checked in. Soft muzak was playing, which was better than blasting TVs or music. The people were more annoying than anything else. Some guy was shouting in Spanish at the receptionist. I guess they were good buddies and were laughing and joking about whatever. Finally, he steps away from the desk just to ramble on loudly with a woman sitting in one of the chairs.

When I was finally called in, I was brought to a very chilly room to wait some more while people continued laughing and shouting like we were at some party. Eventually, the doctor and her sidekick entered. I’d say she was a bit rude and impatient with me, but otherwise just there. She looked up my nose, then seemed almost confused, and I worried that she didn’t know what she was doing. I asked how things looked, and she said she was just trying to work out in her mind the best thing to do.

Her indecisiveness made me a bit concerned, but then she gave me some surprising but good news. Other than having a “cute little nose,” she thinks a turbinate reduction would likely help more than surgery, although there are no guarantees. She thinks it’d be best to start with the turbinate reduction before putting myself through the pain of surgery and losing tons of money.

After thinking about it, and the fact that I don’t have issues breathing when I’m awake and the way alternate sides block up when I’m sleeping, it does make more sense that it is the turbinates now that I know more about them and how they function, as opposed to the valves. This doesn’t mean I might not need additional procedures later on, but right now it’s looking like I don’t need shots, which is a huge relief right there.

I guess when we lie flat, blood rushes to the turbinates and they swell up, and mine are swelling more than they should. So the procedure is to shrink the tissues or something to that effect. I read a little about it, and it’s described as uncomfortable but not painful. I would take all the pain in the world to be able to reclaim my sleep, energy, and therefore my life!

I’m so damn out of shape due to the forced inactivity. I felt weak, unsteady, and like an old lady just walking across the parking lot to use the bathroom where we charged. I felt slightly short of breath and a whole lot of heart pounding. Right now, my sciatica is acting up.

Had a dream we went to visit Nane. Such a nice, refreshing change from being chased by bears and mountain lions! She was still working and had a really weird-looking apartment and setup. She slept on a wide shelf under a raised desk that she would stand at, LOL. Two twin beds adorned one wall for Tom and me to sleep on. She told us not to leave our beds during the night. Tom did get up for some reason. I worried Nane wouldn’t be too happy about that.

As I was lying in bed, I thought of how Nane wasn’t too happy to see me, and I wondered how much of it could be due to how shitty I looked. I was also frustrated at myself for forgetting to bring any makeup.

For the second day in a row, we stopped at Burger King. We rarely even go just once, let alone twice in a row. We typically go once every one or two months. But we were just too tired to come home and cook.

I took pictures of both my palms and had ChatGPT read them just for kicks. It said that rather than a brief, lucky life, I’m in for a long, complicated one. Yeah, that’s the problem. It’s long and complicated, all right, and I have no luck at all. Then again, if the turbinate reduction can help me instead of having to go through surgery, I guess that's sort of lucky.

It hit me a few days ago that part of why I was having horrible hot flashes in my sleep and super-fragmented sleep was not just stress, but that I was overdoing the Premarin. It can cause shortness of breath, chest pain, a racy heart, and other symptoms. I had it the day I saw Rhonda, and I used it before leaving to see her. So I’ve got to really scale back on the stuff. 

On with the results. This isn't every single thing I’m allergic to, since we learned the hard way that tomato plants make me sneeze my ass off. They did 80 percutaneous tests, 39 intradermal tests, and 3 controlled tests.

WEEDS:
Yellow Dock – Mild
Sour Dock – Moderate
E. Plantain 1:20 – Mild
Nettle 1:20 – Mild
Dog Fennel 1:20 – Mild
Timothy 100,000 BAU

MOLDS:
Aspergillus 1:20 – Mild
Alternaria 1:20 – Severe
Cladosporium 1:20 – Mild

MITES:
D. Pteronyssinus 10,000 BAU – Mild

TREES:
Box Elder 1:20 - Mild
Live Oak 1:20 - Mild
American Elm 1:20 - Mild
Bald Cypress 1:20 - Mild

ANIMALS:
Mouse – Mild
Dog – Moderate
Cat – Severe

INSECT:
Fire Ant ALK – Moderate

FOODS:
Saccharomyces – Moderate
Lobster – Moderate
Cashew – Moderate
Green Pepper – Moderate