I keep debating what I do and don’t want to include in public journals. On one hand, I’m not doing anything wrong if I keep it legal. But on the other, I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable—even if my comments about them are positive or neutral. With Becky, I’ll use my best judgment. She’s familiar with my bio and doesn’t mind being mentioned by her first name.

We’ve talked about her and her husband’s health. She has a whopping five autoimmune diseases! She also had surgery to correct her septum, which I might need as well. I’ll only know if I can ever get in to see an ENT that doesn’t bail on me.

Interestingly, we picked a new healthcare plan that includes an ENT outside of that shitty group that kept canceling on me. But the ENT in network is 88 years old. Yes, 88! Why would you want to work that late in life unless you really love what you do? I can’t imagine they would let him do surgery at that age, but as Tom said, that’s a good thing because then he’ll be more honest as to whether or not he thinks I need surgery to begin with whereas a surgeon would be quicker to say I needed it because that’s how they make money.

I’m still figuring out my sleep apnea treatment plan, but thankfully, I won’t need referrals with this new coverage. And if I do, Rhonda, who I’m sticking with, can take care of that. So long as the provider is in-network and keeps appointments, I should be okay.

I’m dropping my glaucoma doctor, though. Not all of his services are covered, and I don’t see the point in spending money each year with such a low chance of developing glaucoma.

The plan offers virtual urgent care but lacks the ongoing care for chronic diseases that Galileo provided. It sucks but I’d rather not pay $250 a year for Galileo who may or may not be compatible with my insurance, especially until we’re in a better financial position.

As for Becky’s husband, he’s been through hell. He got shingles in his eye, leading to a series of seven strokes. He was on so much medication that it nearly killed him. Coming off the meds, he had seizures and fainting spells and was in constant pain. Becky took a gun out of his mouth one day. I totally understand his pain and desperation, although my reasons are different.

Becky and I were also remembering Lisa from school. As Becky described her, Lisa was almost feral—completely batshit insane to the point where not even the staff could handle her. Becky suspects Lisa may have had multiple issues, possibly a developmental disorder along with ADHD. Lisa told her she was molested as well. She was unique in that she was very pretty. Most of the headcases I’ve seen were either plain, unkempt, or downright ugly. Years later, when the article came out about the school being shut down and the owners imprisoned, Lisa left bizarre comments. Becky reached out, but Lisa never responded.

I almost asked Becky to pass along my email to Marie, but then I reminded myself that people don’t change—not in major ways, anyway. Marie would have to be a totally different person not to fall into the same paranoid, accusatory, and delusional patterns she used to. So I kept repeating to myself, “People don’t change!”

I’ve also been watching a documentary on the Gypsy Rose Blanchard case. Her mother had Munchausen syndrome and kept Gypsy in a wheelchair even though she could walk and both caused and made up various injuries and illnesses. Eventually, Gypsy snapped, tired of being trapped and hurt. She killed her mother and spent ten years in prison. Personally, I don’t think she should’ve done any time. She’s incredibly smart and articulate and has a patient, positive attitude despite everything. At one point, the parole office jerked her around with conflicting instructions, and I could relate. Parole and probation often feel like an extension of jail. A part of me wished she had put her foot down like I wish I had. Why should they be allowed to be a bunch of fucking hypocrites and not stick to agreements while everybody else is expected to do so?

Earlier, I saw a crime clip about a tragic case where two young women—one 17, the other 27—beat a 30-year-old woman to death out of jealousy. Shockingly, the 17-year-old laughed about it during interrogation as if it was one big old fucking joke. It makes you wonder if they’ll ever look back on it and cringe with shame and embarrassment or if they’ll never feel a shred of guilt or remorse. I’m betting on the latter.

Haha, Tom said he thought something was wrong earlier because the garbage truck sounded so loud. Then he remembered he had his new hearing aid in! I can understand why he’d want to hear people better, but why deal with all the loud shit in the world? I wish to hell I was as deaf as he is.

I was up for a long time last night and only managed 4.5 hours of sleep. I did get a few more hours later, though. Interestingly, I’ve been having some rather steamy dreams lately. Too bad those old, dead hormones aren’t cooperating in real life.

I also dreamed we lived in a new place, though I don’t know where. It was very cluttered.

In another dream, Becky was in a two-story house with her kids still at home and she told me she slept downstairs because of her arthritis.