Starting off with some discouraging news. I took my first statin dose at 10am, went to bed, and awoke with the same sore throat as the last time just before 8pm. Looking back in my journal at the first time I took these statins, I also complained of the same extreme fatigue that I’m feeling right now, but that may or may not be connected to my cycle. The first round was on the exact same day of the month one month ago, only it was a Thursday instead of a Saturday.

Food and drink aggravate my throat, and if things continue not to go well, it’s going after my stomach next, then the anxiety will set in. At that time I’ll be letting Doc A know that whether or not she wants to believe me, I’ve had ENOUGH! It’s hard enough just dealing with perimenopause and earaches, though it should only take a week or less to recover instead of 3 months like when I had trouble with the higher dose of levothyroxine.

Seriously, I don’t care anymore what she believes. I’m not in imminent danger and she can’t force me to take medication I can’t tolerate if this doesn’t work out. She can, however, drop me as a patient if she sees me as “uncooperative,” but Tom says she won’t because that’d put her at risk of a malpractice suit. Like anything that might be up there would give me the honors of suing anyone and living happily ever after in Hawaii or at least even more comfortably for some time to come? No, instead I’d have to scramble to find another doctor, and we could only file suit if no other doctor would take me. How likely is that? Not likely.

Although I don’t feel anxious at this time, my HR is running a little high. I’m just so fucking fed up with the medication drama. If history continues to repeat itself, that’s it, I’m done. Done with everything but my thyroid meds and the lorazepam as needed. I know my body. I know what’s normal for me. I have NEVER had such extreme anxiety without it being caused by some drug. Yet even though it’s unlikely, I’m still hoping that all I’ll get is the sore throat that will be gone by tomorrow. I have until Monday afternoon to decide whether or not it’s worth chancing a second dose.

Late last night I heard back from Leslie at the rattery. She’d been busy helping her sister move. No problem, I told her. Things do come up. She asked for more info, but I haven’t heard from her since. Hopefully, that’s only due to the holidays and that she’s serious because we just spent a fortune on a huge and totally awesome cage. All our rat cages are 16-18 years old, so they deserve this overdue treat. It’s 63” tall and has a very different design than any other cage we’ve had thus far, which should make cleaning it easier. Bedding pans are a little shallow, but otherwise looks fantastic. It better be for $215. We got some accessories for it, too.

If we don’t hear from her after the holiday, there are other ratteries to try.

We also grabbed another set of those luxurious Egyptian sheets, this time in ivory.

According to the monthly Crier, Jon and Carolyn (Twenties), are the ones to move into Jackie’s place. Tom saw Jon and they waved at each other when he was on his way in from a quick run to Walmart yesterday morning. He said he doesn’t seem like the kind to be into doing projects at all. Well, I may not have to listen to him do projects, but instead listen to others do them for them. A plumbing truck that was running something loud and annoying was over there yesterday morning. What was weird was that Tom saw water tanks being installed. Didn’t Jackie do that right before she left?

Aly made additional tweets that now have me not so sure it was Molly she was having a problem with. She said something about sending her a follow request she never approved. Molly wouldn’t deny Aly a damn thing with the way she’s always worshipped her.

Last night I dreamed I was talking to Gloria Estefan, only it was the Gloria from the 90s. We sat at a small table in a diner or restaurant somewhere and I told her I still had a certain album of hers (all my music in real life is in MP3 form). She asked if I would be willing to have my picture taken with me holding it, and I agreed.

Then I was lying on a twin bed. Tom was in another twin bed just a few feet away. A nightstand was between the beds. My bed was up against a window. I peered through the blinds at a couple of houses that were so close that it was almost hard to tell if the little girl running into one of them ran into the one closest to us or not. I just hoped that since whoever lived there had a lot of guests over they wouldn’t wake me up.

Then I was in some hotel in the last dream where a shootout had recently occurred. I was afraid I’d somehow be implicated in it as I entered my room to find a female and a male housekeeper cleaning my room. The guy said he felt weird while the girl joked about “eating paint” as fine particles fell from the duster she was using.