I wish we weren't so damn broke now. Or better yet, let me rephrase that: I wish our money wasn't tied up in other things right now, like my health. Tomorrow, I get the tooth pulled. He’s doing more research because the sleep study might be our cheapest bet after all, even if it has the longest wait, but I've survived this long. He also has to call his insurance company to get more info on the cataract surgery he needs.

Anyway, I say I wish we had more money now because I'm really eager to get a haunted doll and an EMF reader to see what happens. My psychic abilities have been limited thus far to premonitions and mood influencing, even though I can't control what or how I'm able to do this. I wonder if there are other skills I could develop. I'm trying to keep an open mind about the possibility of the afterlife since it hasn't been disproven any more than it's been proven. I feel really inspired by Melanie, with whom I am fast becoming friends. I believe we have many things in common, and she’s easy to understand in her videos and has a very comforting voice. She’s inspiring, too. I feel she's quite a knowledgeable psychic and that I could learn from her little by little. I don't know that I could ever get as good as she is at communicating with haunted dolls, but even though it will be a while, I'm definitely going to get the tools necessary to give it a try!

My fatigue yesterday was so bad that it took me about six hours just to get going. I slept a little better last night, but I'm still tired because one night doesn’t pay off a sleep debt you rack up over several days. I also agree with Tom’s theory about there being more than one culprit. Sleep apnea may be the main problem, but I wonder if I could be lacking certain vitamins and minerals. After doing some research, I came up with Centrum Silver for older women as my best bet to try. The only problem is that it has 25% of vitamin D, which could really jack my TSH up higher than is comfortable for me, so I may have to skip my meds at times. It seems that vitamin D, B12, iron, and folic acid are most responsible for energy.

I haven't heard back from Rhonda yet about the estrogen cream because she doesn’t work on Fridays. Hopefully, she'll just give it to me and not make me go to a GYN first, adding another appointment and more cost to the list. Oh, to be in a country with actual coverage instead of one that offers a variety of discount plans! I started having more burning yesterday, so I hope I'm not on the verge of another infection. Tom thinks it’s just a psychological response to canceling the appointment with the piss doctor, LOL. Yeah, it could be.

Yesterday, I managed to clean our jewelry and smudge the place with sage. I also put a piece of amethyst and rose quartz under my pillow, as recommended for improved sleep. What I really need is a jade stone, so I’ll be ordering that soon along with clear quartz. The clear quartz will go in my robe pocket. It's the same oval shape with the thumb indentation that the amethyst one I lost had.

I was hoping for more moving dreams, but I can't control what I dream about regardless of what's going on in my life. What's going on today is that I'm back to feeling tired after having decent energy yesterday. It would be a lot worse had I taken any kind of antihistamine other than Claritin or melatonin, but it's bad enough because my sleep got broken up not just once but twice. I woke up on fire, and that's when I realized that I really needed to get rid of this mattress pad once and for all. I noticed as soon as I got it that I felt a little warmer with it, and Florida isn't the place for shit like that. If I can get my energy back and we can get out of here, we’ll almost certainly be going to a climate where it will be more suitable. So, I'm back to using an extra sheet as a mattress pad for now. When I pulled it off and really got a good look at it, it was no wonder I was warm because it's backed in vinyl, which means it isn't breathable. I don't want to get a plush mattress pad because that would be harder to fit in our washer and it might make me even warmer. I don't need it either because the waterbed's mattress cover is plush enough. I mean, it's only an inch, but it feels much plusher because it's on a waterbed and not a regular mattress. Also, there's a one-inch thick piece of foam beneath the cover itself, so that's actually two inches between me and the tubes.

The fatigue really affects me emotionally. When I sleep shitty and I'm left tired the next day, I feel depressed, hopeless, and sometimes anxious. I just worry about money, additional health issues, and how long it's going to take to get the fucking CPAP. I can't know for sure if anything else is causing my fatigue until I can get it and start using it consistently. I also need to get the fuck out for a while. It's just that there's no place to go most of the time and no extra money, so I'm hoping that if we ever have land, I can at least make some kind of a walking path on it. Here, it's humid most of the time, and I swear everybody but us smokes in Florida. I hate going by people's cigarette smoke and their sometimes yappy dogs.

Today was my appointment, and it would definitely have been very hard to stay up as late as I would have needed to. I'll probably just go around back and sit on the bench to get a little sunlight when the sun comes up. I'll only sit there for a few minutes because it's kind of boring to just sit there. It's too bright to see the phone, and it's not a convenient place to eat a meal or do much of anything else. This climate also isn't good for me to spend much time outdoors in because of my asthma and allergies. As long as it's not too windy, though, and it sounds pretty calm out there, I'll go out for a few minutes to keep my eyes used to the brightness. I do have a full-spectrum light indoors, but that's not quite the same.

I lost my amethyst stone with the thumb indentation that I kept in my robe pocket for years. I don't know if I misplaced it when I was washing the robe or if it fell and Tinkerbella swiped and hid it somewhere. There's no scientific evidence, but there was still something calming about feeling it in there whenever I would wear the robe. It may sound a bit silly, but oh well. I looked up my old Amazon order. I got it in 2021. This time, I'm getting a clear quartz one with the same shape. It's only $7.

Anyway, instead of dreaming of moving, I was stranded in a foreign country with some woman. Neither of us spoke the language, whatever country it was. The woman was going to contact her family for help. 

Then, in another dream, I must have been quite young because I was professing my love for this young guy. He seemed insecure and a little doubtful, and I had to assure him that I would be with him when he was 30, when he was 40, when he was 50, when he was 60, and when he was 70—and that I would still be with him if I died first because I would haunt him from the other side. Then, I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of guilt because I was with someone else (Tom?).

Back to venting about my fears. I have a bad feeling that this fucking pulmonologist that I really don't like is going to make it harder for me to get a CPAP. I also have a bad feeling that it's not going to restore my energy. I hope to hell it's just the pessimist in me, and this won’t be the case, especially the latter. I've tried to tell myself I can still live if I'm tired most of the time, but no, I can't. Because then I'm not living—I'm simply existing. I spend so much time lying around when I could be up doing this and that. That's no life and not acceptable to me. It's almost like being wheelchair-bound but not, disabled but not.

Now, if a miracle happens and the CPAP—whenever I get it—does help restore at least most of my energy, then I'm going to be eager to not only get back on the vibration platform but also be more consistent with my story writing. It's hard to be consistent with stories when you're exhausted so much of the time because you can't think straight. This is really doing a number on my brain as well as the rest of me and my mood. It's fucking with my memory and my thinking time. Hell, I don't even know if I could live as long as he does if I carry on like this. I always assumed that he would live to his mid-80s and I would check out at that point, but then I wonder if this will lead me to a deadly stroke or heart attack if it's not resolved and I don’t check out sooner.

I watched a YouTube video about a woman claiming to have had an NDE at a dentist's office, and she said that it was beautiful and peaceful and that God wasn’t anything you could personify. She said it was like she was one with every soul that ever lived and that there was nothing you could get wrong in this life or even right because everybody ended up in that one big pile of souls, so to speak. I've also seen videos where people swear they met and talked to God, and then some that talked about living past lives, and then some claiming to have gone to hell. It's hard to believe that all these people are lying, but who do you believe? And better yet, what do you believe?

Maybe, just like everyone's earthly life is different, everyone's afterlife is different—if any form of it really does exist. I don't know what to believe anymore. I wish I had something I believed in wholeheartedly, even if it was bullshit. I just feel like it might give me a sense of comfort if I did.

My house is starting to feel like a prostitute—too loose from too much use. At 35 years old, the door hinges are loose, the outlets are loose, and plenty of other things are too.

Part of me is tempted to say, Let’s just go back to Oregon, where there are no surprises—no sneezing fits, no lung tightness, no sonic booms, no hunters, no thunderstorms. But I don’t know if we could afford anything close enough to K-Falls, and it’s so cold and snowy there. We’ll keep all our options open, but I’d still prefer a state with Death with Dignity laws unless we find an amazing deal elsewhere. I definitely miss how our lives were back there.

Today, I feel much better than the last couple of days, and I definitely need to throw away the rest of the melatonin and antihistamine spray. They leave me way too groggy the next day. My sleep was still broken up, but this time I took Claritin and half a clonazepam to get back to sleep. As usual, my nose was a little stuffy. I can’t wait to get my nose and lungs the hell out of this state!

After discussing it with Tom, we agreed yesterday morning that I’d cancel the urologist appointment as long as we wouldn’t be charged. Some doctors let you cancel up to 24 hours in advance, while others require 72 hours. We both agree that the odds of there being anything else wrong are incredibly low. Even the doctor seemed to think the first time I saw him that the mild burning I get in between infections is definitely menopause-related. I sent a message to Rhonda about the estrogen cream.

We also don’t trust the girl I spoke to who said the cost of the tests was included in the copay. Why would they be when we had to pay an extra $40 just for the ENT to shove a camera up my nose? Besides, it would have been a long, hot drive since we couldn’t run the AC if we wanted to avoid stopping at the slow charger along the way, not to mention a very long day for me. He usually donates on Fridays too, and we could definitely use the money.

At first, the woman I spoke to yesterday morning didn’t seem to want to give me a straight answer about canceling fees. So after I demanded a simple yes or no, she finally said they required 48 hours' notice. Since I was calling 50 hours before the appointment, she confirmed I could cancel without charge. She asked why I was canceling, and I just told her something important had come up and I’d need to reschedule. Of course, I won’t be rescheduling unless I have any more issues. I better fucking not! We just want to get our health on track, save some money, and get the fuck out of here.

I was under the false delusion that Medicare would be actual coverage and not just a discount like regular insurance plans. But that’s not always the case. You usually just get a slightly bigger discount. However, Tom did some research and found a place that might cover his cataract surgery completely. He may just have to travel 40 miles. At least he gets 50 free rides a year.

Everything is so much easier now that my hair is just above my shoulders. I’m trying to grow out all the permanent dye. The plan is to either use nothing or stick to semi-permanent dye in the future. The shorter I keep it, the easier things will be, but I don’t know if I want to keep it short forever. For now, though, I’m actually glad I have curly hair for the first time in my life—because I know I didn’t do a perfect job cutting it, and that would really show if I had straight hair. If I did have straight hair, though, I likely wouldn’t have cut it in the first place. Straight hair is much easier to manage.

Believer or not, I asked a friend how many past lives she thinks your average human has lived, and she said she read that it takes an average of 100-150 lives to learn all the lessons there are to learn from being human.

Well, in this life, I learned that it's never good to give up your CPAP, even if your sleep apnea is mild! I also wonder what the point is of learning all these lessons and why it's so important, especially if most of us can't remember our past lives. And after we've learned all these supposed lessons, then what?

My favorite rodent and I just shared a meal together. Yesterday, I was tired as fuck because an unusually loud truck woke me up, and it was hard to get back to sleep. Today, I'm still tired as fuck because I woke up struggling to breathe through my nose. Once I switched out the kid's nose strip for an adult one, it opened me up a little more. Still had trouble falling back asleep right away, so this is the second time my sleep was broken up, and any idiot with half a brain knows that just one night of shitty sleep can really make you feel horrible the next day.

I think I should definitely go down with the full clonazepam next time around. I know part of it is stress, but today I feel a sense of hope and determination much stronger than I've been feeling in a while. I only hope to hell it's not false hope. You know how life is— we plan, and then life shits on those plans. Nonetheless, the plan is to get our health on track this year and bust out of here next year.

I know I said I wasn't as desperate to escape this place as the last place since it's not nearly as noisy, but yeah, I am. With the way my allergies have been and the intermittent asthma, you bet I'm definitely ready to go! Although outside sources only wake me up once in a while, my own damn body is waking me up nearly every single fucking time I sleep. Every. Single. Fucking. Time. So in a sense, even though it's quieter here, I'm sleeping worse than at the old place.

Moving to a dry climate won't uncollapse my nasal valve, but it will back the allergies off. If my nose isn't so swollen from allergies, then the nasal valve issue won't matter as much. It won't be as noticeable. Even Tom feels it at times. Yes, I'll miss the warmer weather, and yes, this is a cute house. But the climate is all wrong for me, the house is too small, healthcare is even more fucked up here, and I feel totally out of place being in such a red state even though I’m antisocial and keep to myself. The people here just aren’t as friendly in general, and I’m sick of being in a flight path and listening to dozens of planes a day. It's after midnight, and they're still going.

A quick check shows that Oregon has Death with Dignity laws, and land outside Klamath Falls starts at around 15 grand. I was wondering about the area between the city and the base of the mountain we were on—that way, it wouldn’t take an hour to get to a hospital if we needed one. I know we weren’t on the mountain long, but I don’t remember hearing a single sonic boom while we were there. I hated the cold and snow, but out of all the states I’ve lived in, my asthma and allergies were the best there. Some of our happiest times were there. Not saying we would go back, but it’s interesting to gather as much information as we can even though it wouldn’t be adding a new state to our list of adventures and my TMJ may be worse. Becky wouldn’t be around but neither would the noisy monsoons. So, just trying to keep all our “drier” options open.

So he's going to check into dealing with his cataracts, and I'm getting this damn tooth pulled next Monday. The gum area started irritating me, and realizing that I don't want to have to worry about it getting infected—which is the worst pain I've ever experienced—and since it just doesn't feel right, I had him call the dentist since I had to sleep. I guess it's going to be about $40. They anticipate it breaking up, but hopefully, it will be a simple elevate-and-extract. I don’t know what kind of sedation they offer, but the most important thing is getting a numbing agent without epinephrine. Hopefully, they have that. I may or may not take clonazepam beforehand. I trust that this is a good dentist who knows what she’s doing, so I’m not too worried about it. Unless it does break up, it shouldn’t take long. It takes a lot longer for the numbing agent to set in than it does for the pulling. I just didn’t want to wait five more weeks until my maintenance appointment, and I didn’t even know that they could pull it at that time anyway. So that tooth is officially on death row! I look forward to getting rid of the weird feeling thing, and it will be one less tooth to worry about. Funny because after having my wisdom teeth pulled and the impacted baby tooth pulled, I thought I was done having teeth pulled, but that was about four teeth ago. This is going to end up being the ninth pull.

Then we got some bad news. I can’t get into the sleep lab for a study until June. So by the time I got the CPAP, I would be struggling to get used to it during storm season. During July, August, and September, it storms nearly every day. I was damn near in tears of frustration as we talked about all the medical expenses holding us back from getting the fuck out of here. Then an idea came to me— what if we bypass the referral?

I know you have to have a prescription for one, but if I could get this denier of a pulmonologist to give me a copy of the original CPAP prescription, we could just buy a CPAP outright from Amazon, and it would actually end up being cheaper than the portion we would have to pay for the sleep study and the CPAP that we would still have to pay for anyway. This way, I also wouldn’t have to stress about one of us being available when they call every month to ask if I’m okay with accepting new parts that they change periodically. We could just get them ourselves at our own convenience. We'd have to pay for it, but they usually have good deals on Amazon.

The tricky part may be getting the prescription. Mr. "You can’t have N24 if you’re sighted" is rather defiant in some ways, but worst-case scenario, we’ll go to another pulmonologist. Really wish the second one I saw was in-network, but he’s not. Tom has to do more research first to see if that really would save us the money we think it would.

A good friend of mine reminded me that I’m definitely not alone. She, too, had a test for sleep apnea, and while she doesn’t have it, she was told she just has delayed sleep and disturbed sleep. Just like me, she made multiple attempts to get on a “normal” schedule, but it only got her so far for so long. I think N24 progresses the older we get because it's gotten harder and harder with age to try to force myself on a different schedule or to break up my sleep.

That’s the problem with some doctors—yes, they went to school for years and had a lot of training, but no one knows our bodies like we do. Two other doctors confirmed I do indeed have N24, and it's really a no-brainer in this case. I mean, it was as obvious that I had it before I was diagnosed as it was obvious that something was wrong with my thyroid just based on the symptoms. Not everything is that complicated. If you read a list of symptoms and you can check off every single one of them and nothing else correlates with those symptoms, you're almost certainly going to have that particular issue.

So I'm definitely anxious to get our health on track and get the fuck out of here. Hopefully, the white lines appearing on my nails don’t mean anything other than that I’m getting older. I’ve got white lines appearing from the tips to the cuticles on several nails. Some don’t go all the way back to the cuticle. I’ve never had this many before. Most of them are in my toenails. I read that it can be a sign of heart, kidney, or liver trouble, but more than likely, it’s related to age and my thyroid since I doubt I have any nutritional deficiencies.

Anyway, my only concern would be sonic booms, but I would rather get boomed and monsooned awake at times than feel exhausted every single fucking day. My worst fear is still that a CPAP doesn’t help and I have chronic fatigue, but I can’t know that until I get the CPAP back that I never should have given up and make damn sure I use it. And believe me, I am more determined than ever to do just that!

I also don’t want to stick around long enough for climate change to hurl a Cat 4 or 5 straight at us. Even if a Cat 3 hit us head-on, the results could be devastating. Hell, I would go back to Oregon—cold and snowy as it was—before I remained here, as I told Tom. Do I regret leaving there for the reasons we left? Yes and no.

I dreamed that my parents were alive again, and I was actually happy to see them. We were sitting in some restaurant or someplace in public, eager to chat and catch up. “I have so much to tell you and ask you!” I exclaimed excitedly. Of course, my mother had to be annoyed with me at times, but it was otherwise a very pleasant meeting.

I've often imagined them suddenly being alive again and reaching out to me, wondering how I would react if that could actually happen. I'm sure my heart would be in a great tug-of-war with my mind. My heart would be curious and say, Hey, shitty parents or not, they were still my parents. But my mind, which is usually much more sensible than the heart, would remember their abuse and the fact that people don’t change. Mom would still be a selfish, narcissistic, jealous, and overly sensitive bitch, while my father would still look the other way when he wasn’t actively making excuses for her.

I won’t mention this on PB just in case, but I was looking to see if someone I was talking to on FB decided to join after I told them about it and happened to wander into the mystery girl’s latest account. I was a little surprised to see she’s mostly private or friends-only. But what friends would she add if she’s not sociable? The fact that I wasn't one of the ones added makes me think even more that she's not one of my regular readers. I kind of have mixed emotions about that too. I mean, this is someone who's been troubled and can be unpredictable. At the same time it was kind of flattering to at least think I had this silent but mutual connection with this open-minded person that could relate to me. Someone that knew me well and really got me. Yet if you cared to read someone that regularly, wouldn't you add them as a friend?

Ouch! Doing a belly flop on a waterbed can be just as uncomfortable as doing one in a pool. 

Anyway, I thought I’d get comfy and take the time to write about the horrible nightmare I had. Oh, I had anything but dreams of moving last night. I slept pretty shitty, and I’m surprised I even have this much energy today.

The dream felt so vivid and real that it made me wonder if I slipped into another dimension and saw an alternate version of Tom and me. I’ve always believed the multiverse is more plausible than most other theories. It definitely wasn’t one of those senseless, disjointed dreams we all have.

In the dream, we owned a two-story house and lived somewhere that got a lot of snow—neither of which will ever be the case in reality. I was downstairs, and Tom was upstairs in a room, either watching TV on his computer or fiddling with electronics, as he often does.

I heard a commotion outside. It was early evening, but the streetlights illuminated a car stuck in the snow at the foot of our driveway. A guy in his fifties appeared to own the car and what I assumed were his kids, were trying to help. He saw me through the window, smiled, and called out, “Well, I know someone’s home.”

I smiled back and raised my index finger, signaling him to wait a moment while I unlocked the door. I mentioned noticing his car was stuck and said that ours was in the garage. His expression turned disappointed when I said that, but I quickly clarified that I meant our home garage, not an auto repair shop.

He then mentioned some part of his car that was broken, so I told him to hang on a minute because Tom would know more about that sort of thing. I went to the foot of the stairs and called up to Tom. When he didn’t answer right away, I figured he had his headphones on and that I’d have to go up to get his attention. But a moment later, he responded with an almost irritated “What?” in a tone that clearly said he didn’t appreciate being interrupted.

I told him to come downstairs, and a second later, he was standing beside me. That’s when, without being invited in, the guy stepped into our living room. Then, out of nowhere, a huge knife appeared in one hand and a coil of rope in the other.

Tom just stared at him, dumbfounded, while I could sense that his first thought was, This is what you dragged me downstairs for? 

“But it seemed so real!” I stammered, realizing it was just a ruse. “The whole thing about the car being stuck and the kids trying to help!”

I woke up at that point, and hopefully, if this really happened in another place and time, being two against one meant we saved our asses in the end.

My TMJ has been really bad lately, and I don’t know why. I’ve been doing the exercises and taking ibuprofen, but nothing is helping.

Making like-minded online connections has always been enjoyable for me. I love the idea of an online bestie—someone I grow close to and who grows close to me, sharing much of our lives with the possibility of meeting in person someday. I don’t think I’ll ever have an online friend as close as I had with Aly, but the point is that a close, like-minded friend—someone open-minded, honest, intelligent enough, and at least mostly sane—is a whole different ballgame compared to the general population.

When I compare Aly and a few others in my mind to the average person, well, there really is no comparison. Most people are just so twisted in so many ways. I feel confident in my isolation from them—it keeps me saner and safer. I could go on and on about people’s cruelty, delusions, and unjust ways, but I’ll leave it at that for now.

I woke up surprisingly energetic today, but sure enough, within a few hours, that familiar wave of fatigue washed over me. I felt so relieved when I checked with AI and asked if this could happen with untreated sleep apnea, and it confirmed that it could. That makes more sense than blaming my thyroid since thyroid levels don’t fluctuate that radically. I don’t see why they wouldn’t give me a CPAP, but if, for whatever reason, they don’t, I’m going to need nasal valve surgery. My nose still affects my sleep at times.

I also realized that, for the first time in a long while, I’m actually grateful for my psychic abilities. Most of the time, they feel more like a curse than a blessing. But the recurring moving dreams I’ve been having—no matter how weird—give me hope that this issue will be resolved because we can’t move if it isn’t. I hold onto those dreams and that little bit of hope. If they only happened once in a while, I wouldn’t think much of them. And if we were as desperate to get out of here as we were in our last place, I might assume they were just reflections of my thoughts. But I really think these are signs. We adventurers have moved many times to many places, and these are the kinds of dreams I’ve always started having as it got close. Or close enough anyway, like within a few years.

I had many dreams last night, although I don’t remember the details. One of them must have been bad because I vaguely remember waking up scared, with my heart racing.

Back to the subject of cyber friends—someone's entry about haunted dolls got me thinking and curious. I might have laughed at the idea years ago, but experience has taught me to keep an open mind, and now I definitely want to get one to see if I notice any difference in my life. A quick check showed they range in size and cost anywhere from $25 to hundreds of dollars. There was a cheap one I liked in Germany, but the shipping costs more than the doll itself. Besides, I don’t want just any doll—I want one that’s at least somewhat aesthetically pleasing. I don’t want some ugly heap of crap sitting around just because it’s said to be haunted.

With not much money at the moment and other priorities, it may be a while before I get one. Apparently, some have backstories (who haunts the doll and at least some of what happened to them when they lived) and there are ways to communicate with them as well, but I’m still not sure I believe in that sort of thing—or that I’d even know how to communicate with them, assuming we really do live on somehow after death. Most of them are said to contain positive energy, but I was surprised to find a few with negative energy. Who the hell would want to buy a doll with negative energy?

It’s been a windy day, and we even had a little rain. It was frustrating because the temperature and breeze would have been perfect for opening the windows for some fresh air. But I knew that would have really aggravated my asthma and allergies.

Although I’m feeling more certain that my lung tightness is climate-related, I skipped today’s dose. The left side of my thyroid may be slightly enlarged, and of course a higher TSH could be affecting my energy levels. So depending on how I feel, I may not continue the weekly skips for long.

I still worry that they’re either not going to give me a CPAP or that they will, but it won’t help—and then they won’t be able to figure out what’s wrong if my TSH is close enough to normal and I’m not diabetic. Copilot said you’re unlikely to get fatigued from your A1C unless it’s over 7, and I can’t imagine mine suddenly jumping from 5.9 to 7. At this point, as long as I stay off sugar and keep active, I should never become diabetic.

I really, really hope most of the fatigue is from sleep apnea because that’s treatable! If it’s not related to sleep apnea, my A1C, or even my TSH, then it’s probably chronic fatigue. What else could it be???

I definitely sleep sounder with Clonazepam—my sleep score jumped from 80 to 88. But I’m not going to take it before bed tonight since I don’t want to rely on it every day, which means I’ll likely wake up more often and be pretty tired tomorrow.

I’m so fucking sick of spending years trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. I spent the better part of a decade figuring out the anxiety, and now I’m leaning toward half a decade trying to solve the fatigue. If this ever does get resolved, how many years will I spend trying to figure out the next health issue?

Anyway, I had more dreams about moving, even though I don’t know where the hell we were. First, we were staying someplace temporarily, and I noticed the shade in one of the windows was torn, so I made a mental note to hang a curtain over it or something. Then, we were going to be living near Miss Perfect again—my SIL. Oddly enough, I was glad we’d be near each other again. We were catching up on our health, and she still looked the same age and was still working. In real life, she’d be close to 70 now. I told her I went from 160 pounds to 120 pounds—LOL, that’ll never happen, but hopefully, I’ll never be in the 160s again either.

Tom has been playing these games that pay you to play. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing. So I rejoined Inbox Dollars, checked out their arcade, and downloaded a couple of games I’ve been playing.

Goodbye, Spectrum—hello, Frontier. We switched providers because Frontier offered a better deal without sacrificing speed.

After a couple of good days, it's right back to fatigue, fatigue, fatigue. I didn’t take anything before bed or in the middle of my sleep, yet I still woke up a million times and felt exhausted. Despite that, I haven’t been able to nap. Definitely taking clonazepam tonight to help me sleep a little sounder.

I’m trying so hard not to go "what if" and worry that the CPAP won’t help—because if it doesn’t, that means I have a much more complex and hopeless problem. One I’m almost certain I wouldn’t be willing to live with. It’s just that things rarely come easy for me or go my way. Every time I plan something, those plans fall apart, and every time something seems to work at first, it loses its magic in the end. The protein shakes don’t seem to be helping anymore, so there’s no point in carrying on with those once I use up what’s left.

Different doctors and multiple sources of research have assured me that CPAPs make a big difference for most people, so I’m trying to hang on to that. It’s just not always easy. Although… the dreams I had last night make me wonder. Even though they were kind of weird, I had moving dreams. In one, we were actually moving to Florida instead of from it, but we were moving nonetheless. In another, I was telling Tom how great it would be to be near Kim—not that I’d ever move back to Massachusetts—and that he and I could play VR minigolf while Kim and I could play some other game. He didn’t seem too thrilled with that idea.

The point is, if I weren’t psychic, I’d just write these dreams off as reflections of what’s been on my mind. But since Tom and I both suspect they could be signs, maybe they mean that, yes, I am finally going to get my sleep and fatigue issues resolved or at least improved and we’ll move someday. I can’t move if I’m this heavily fatigued. Took me all day just to muster up the energy to talk type this. I’d settle for a noticeable improvement. Instead of being tired half the time or more, I’d take once a week.

Tom and I were also talking about what we’d want to be if reincarnation existed and we had to come back as humans. He said he’d be whatever. In the past, I would have been quick to say I’d want to be an Asian female—they tend to be less prone to weight problems, and I’ve always liked girly things, dark hair, and dark eyes. But after going through menopause, I can definitely say I’d never want to return as a woman. So Instead of being a bisexual woman from the U.S., I think I’d prefer to be a straight guy from Finland. That way, I’d get to appreciate women without judgment and wouldn’t have to deal with hormonal hell. Plus, even though Finland is horribly cold and snowy, it’s said to be the happiest country in the world with great healthcare and more.

Oh, and I forgot to mention—a Fleetwood Mac song played at the dentist yesterday and it reminded me of the mystery girl. Well, if she’s found her Miss or Mr. Right, I hope they woo her until the sun comes up and tell her that they love her.

Yesterday was a very stressful day for me—not so much because I was tired, but because I was worried about my health, the costs, and everything that comes with it. It was pretty windy, and that seemed to affect my lungs. Using the steam inhaler helped relax the tightness, though.

I'm thinking more and more that my lung tightness is climate- and weather-related, but I’m still going to do the dosage experiment. Today was a little breezy, but after coming home, my lungs haven't been tight at all, so that’s good.

At the dentist, she finished the other half of the deep cleaning (damn that fucking accent of hers to hell!) and accidentally knocked off the crown that was recemented on my very back bottom molar last November. It was an old crown, and it shattered. I’m glad that if it had to come off, it happened there! They took an X-ray, and the dentist looked at it and decided it was fine for now as is. It does feel a little weird, though, and since it would cost less than $100 for a straightforward extraction, assuming that’s all it’d be, I’m going to call a few weeks before my next appointment at the end of next month to see about getting it pulled while I’m there. Not only is it way cheaper than a new crown, but I just don’t need that tooth. The very back bottom and upper teeth on the other side are gone and I do just fine without them.

In six weeks, I have a maintenance appointment, and she mentioned that for the first year after a deep cleaning, you go in every four months instead of six—something she neglected to tell me the first time around.

She also told me to stop using the prescription mouthwash in a week because it can stain teeth. Instead, she suggested dipping floss in it twice a week since it’s an antibacterial solution and flossing with it. Ever since I pulled off a crown in California, I’ve had a bit of a complex about flossing. But she said I don’t have to pull the floss back up after pushing it down—I can just slide it out. Now that I know that, I’ll use regular floss in addition to my Waterpik.

For a moment, I was worried there were going to be additional costs because of the broken crown. Then, when I was checking out, the girl at the desk said she couldn’t find the second payment that completed the deep cleaning. Thankfully, she eventually found it, and he had a copy of the transaction on his phone.

He hasn’t done Prolific in a while because he’s been making extra money with phone games. He said some are good and some aren’t, but mostly, it’s a tedious process. I might like it better, though, because I can do it at any time of day or night and don’t have to deal with surveys that include tough math questions or topics I know nothing about. My Prolific profile says I’m retired and don’t drive, yet they still send me surveys about car insurance and various work-related topics. I can access Prolific 24/7, but at certain times of the day, there are hardly any surveys. The app games, though, are always available.

I finished the challenge yesterday, so now I’m back on my own ride. I’m still in Poland with 1,150 miles left to go.

A large truck with a kayak on top has been parked at Hotel Honker for the last couple of nights. I guess both daughters are visiting because one left in the kayak truck, and shortly after, he and his other daughter left in his own truck. He definitely seems to be overdoing the visitor limit, but I’m not saying anything. As long as they stay quiet, I don’t care. Still can’t wait for those flags to come down! I always know his departure is getting close when they do. At least it’s getting a little late in the season for him to start any new projects. And there are only so many more days I’ll have to hear that motorcycle since he’s got about a month left here.

Anyway, my gums are a little sore, just like they were after the other side was cleaned, but I was still able to enjoy some Chinese food after the appointment. I got barbecue ribs with pork fried rice and an egg roll. Tinkerbella had a bit of everything, and of course, she loved it—even the fortune cookies.

My pulmonologist appointment went as expected—not great, but I still hold on to a shred of hope I can eventually get some of my energy back. The company that supplies my CPAP determines whether I can do an at-home study or need to go to a lab. They called this company, and because I was non-compliant the first time, they want me to go to a sleep lab instead. Not thrilled about this, but I’ll do whatever I have to do. The lab will call to schedule my appointment sometime in the next month, so I might not have the CPAP until June or July.

I was frustrated with Tom after we left the office. He expressed doubts about seeing this pulmonologist (after saying it was good to see one who had my records) because of the way he doesn’t believe a sighted person can have non-24 despite two doctors diagnosing me with it. An online search confirms that, although rare, it is still possible despite the doctor swearing he’s never heard of a sighted person having it. He believes that with restrictive sleep therapy, I can “reboot” my circadian rhythm in a few weeks. However, Tom and I are both skeptical because I’ve tried this numerous times before. If I could simply pick a time to sleep and wake up, I would have done so years ago. My internal clock doesn’t operate on a 24-hour cycle like most people’s; it’s more than 25 hours. Plus, as Tom pointed out, I’ve had this problem for decades yet I didn’t always have this fatigue.

As I reminded Tom, the most important thing is dealing with the fatigue. I won’t know if the CPAP will help until I get it back, use it consistently, and allow a few months to pass. If I’m still fatigued then I might explore other possibilities, but honestly, I’m just sick of this. I’m tired of the endless health issues and feel like throwing in the towel and offing myself yet Tom holds me back from doing that. Sooner or later, I need to put myself first. I can’t keep suffering for him. His asking me to stay alive is only prolonging my suffering and I’m only willing to do that for so much longer.

If the CPAP doesn’t help, I’ll suspect CF long before anything else. I also worry about the costs before this is (hopefully) resolved or before I reach my breaking point.

On top of everything, I’m concerned about my lungs. The doctor mentioned he never had asthma despite living in various places around the US, Caribbean, and the UK but he started having problems three years after moving to the Gulf. It seems it can take that long for issues to develop after all. He said something about how the calmer waters in the Gulf compared to the Atlantic side are a factor and the heavy air, etc. In other words, we chose the cheaper side but also the unhealthier one and I see no way to save enough to get out of here. We can’t get ahead if I’m always having health issues. I may need to switch to a different asthma medication and go back to struggling with that regularly.

I’m just so fed up. Tom worries that because the doctor doesn’t believe me, it will make things harder, but I don’t care if he thinks a sighted person can’t have non-24 or not. I just want to go to the sleep lab and get the CPAP back to see if it helps.

The doctor noted that the last time I was borderline, taking around 7,000 breaths with only 146 of those counting as snoring, and my oxygen only dropping once. We both agreed, however, that home testing can often underestimate the severity of sleep apnea. I suspect mine has worsened and is now moderate, but I won’t know until I undergo testing. Fortunately, I can take clonazepam beforehand if I want. The doctor also said that if I have trouble falling asleep and can’t get enough testing hours, we might need to split it into two tests. We’ll have to coordinate it with my schedule.

My worst fear is that I’ll get the CPAP, adapt to it, and still feel fatigued most days only to find out I have CF. In that case, I would definitely leave this earth. I’m trying not to think that way and to remain optimistic, even though it’s hard. Most days, I have no energy, and now my lungs are being trashed by this climate which doesn’t help my mood at all.

Someone in a huge truck with a kayak on top of it spent the night at the Honker’s, and his daughter is still there too.

He’s a total weirdo. It was thundering, lightning and raining yesterday and he was hosing his truck down. I was like, wtf? Who the hell does that during the thunderstorm?

Beginning to fear more and more that the days of going to bed without worrying whether I’d have enough energy to get through the next day are definitely a thing of the past. Today, I feel worse than yesterday. I started off okay, but within a few hours, the heavy fatigue set in. When I woke up, though, it felt like I hadn’t slept at all. I’m just as exhausted as before going to bed.

Maybe I really am that sensitive to the antihistamine spray, and maybe I wouldn’t feel so tired if I hadn’t taken it when I got up in the middle of the night to pee. I also took a full clonazepam before bed. The only positive is that it’s helping push my schedule forward faster, which will make it easier for my urologist appointment on the 28th.

I’m trying not to fall into the “what if” trap again, but I worry that the CPAP won’t help and that I have a stronger case of chronic fatigue than sleep apnea—in which case, my life really is over. I’m not even living. I’m just existing. Tomorrow, I’ll find out what I have to go through to get back on the CPAP. It's just hard to keep a positive outlook and remind myself that I didn't think I would get through the years of anxiety yet most of the anxiety is gone. The problem is that it's one long-term problem after another for me. So if I ever do resolve this, it will just be on to something else. I just hope whatever that is won't be so debilitating. 

I also want to ask about the lung tightness spells I’ve been having. I looked back over the years since we’ve been in Florida and saw that I had one bad spell in 2021 and another in 2022. AI says it can take several years for asthma to worsen in a new environment. Well, I definitely found a disturbing trend—three bad spells in 2023 and five last year. Last year was when the back pain started along with it. Now I’m starting to wonder if this is more of a climate issue than a medication issue. Sometimes, I have coughing and congestion that I don’t remember having the first time the Levo made me tight.

I had a sad dream last night. Well, the dream itself was great—it was when I woke up that I was sad. It was one of the very few dreams I’ve had that I wish were real. I dreamed that Aly texted me to say she was alive again and back in Nebraska. I was so excited and couldn’t wait to catch up with her and fill her in on my life in Florida. I told her we were thinking of moving back out west to the desert, but in light of her being alive again, I said we were coming to Nebraska instead for sure—first chance we got! sighs sadly Oh, how I wish.

My lungs were better yesterday, though I still had some tightness and still do. 

I'm going to be really pissed if the pulmonologist canceled my appointment on Monday just because I stupidly didn’t think to check my phone for messages. They left a message asking me to call and confirm, and I didn’t. Having to start all over would really suck. I feel like I’ve been waiting forever for this day to come as it is, and the thought of extending it another few months would be such a pisser.

I definitely need that CPAP back ASAP and with this newest health issue, assuming it's environmental and not on the Levo, then it's twice as important that I see a pulmonologist! 

I woke up after just five hours of sleep when I had to pee and couldn’t get back to sleep. Not wanting to touch the melatonin—knowing how groggy it can make me the next day—I opted for something I could use anyway: the antihistamine spray. I expected to feel at least a little groggy, but I actually got a few more hours of sleep and wasn’t groggy at all when I got up. That’s unusual with a 2.5-hour break between sleep, but I can’t complain!

The honker was out in the truck most of yesterday, but I saw the daughter going into the house as I was rounding the corner of ours after spending a few minutes outside to get some sunlight. I’d say he’s done with the projects for the year, and in about a month, he can get the hell out. 

I just worry about how long it’ll take us to get the hell out—especially if the tight spells are more environmental than medication-related, and I’m starting to suspect that could be the case. That’s why I’m doing the experiment I’m doing.

My research says it can definitely take a few years for allergy or asthma problems to be triggered in a new environment. I always thought that if you didn’t have problems within a few months, you were in the clear—but that’s not always the case.

Yesterday was a horribly rough day. I was not only groggy and hungover from the melatonin, but my lungs were also so tight. Because Tom was a little tight too, we were wondering if the oak tree he was trimming had anything to do with it. I looked up the trees in the area that can trigger asthma, and that was one of them, along with the Brazilian pepper tree by the lanai. I chatted with Toni a bit on Messenger, and she said the pollen has been crazy high. I've noticed that too.

He didn't trim anymore yesterday since he didn't feel all that great, and today is donation day. 

I took a full clonazepam before bed, so I slept better, and I feel better except my lungs are still slightly tight, and I've been coughing up a gallon of congestion. I'm not so sure anymore that the Levo is connected, but I'm going to find out once and for all by making automatic weekly skips, no matter how I feel. If this doesn't happen again, like it seems to every two to three months, then there may not have been a connection. But honestly, it's starting to seem weird that it would mostly be on the med. The only time it made me tight was when it first ramped up to be too much for me, and it didn't cause congestion that I remember or the achiness I had. Tom had some aching in his chest and back as well.

We really need to get out of this state as soon as we can! Florida is simply not asthma and allergy-friendly, and I should have known better. I'd rather complain about the cold than struggle like this. I'll miss having it warm most of the time, and I never minded the humidity itself, but this kind of climate is no good for me. I moved to Arizona for a reason, after all, and it wasn't only about Andy being there.

He's going to not only ask his doctor when he sees him in May about beta blockers for his essential tremor and stay off the road when it's dark, but he's also going to get an eye exam done to find out if it's time for him to have his cataracts removed. If it is, he's going to lose a month of donations. He's got almost 8,000 points accumulated from his donations, and once he gets to 10,000, he gets the express bonus where he doesn't have to wait in line. He's going to wait until he hits 10,000 before he gets the procedure done. Of course, I worry because I couldn't drive him home, but then he reminded me that Medicare gives him 50 free medical rides per year.

I deleted the Too Hot to Handle app. It was too much like a storybook in which you had a little bit of say in how it played out. 

Most of the people visiting the Honker seem to be gone, but Tom said he saw the daughter who just had a baby less than six months ago pushing it in a stroller the other day. Already? I thought she'd want to wait until the kid was older before she traveled. I just figured she would still be exhausted since it can't be sleeping through the night yet, as well as it being a bit traumatizing for one that young to travel. But what do I know?

I dreamed of the Honker looking at me through the window as I watched him gearing up to take off on the motorcycle and somehow being able to see me through the reflective film, but the Honker didn't look anything like the Honker. He had longish hair in the dream, but in reality, he's nearly bald.

He's going to have to go through the hassle of registering every time he comes down here and get fingerprinted, LOL. This applies to anyone who stays longer than a month. And he's oh so pro-US, LOL. The impression I've always gotten from him is that he's a Republican and therefore a serious hater, not happy with his own country because it's liberal. But since the US is getting less and less liberal, he just loves it here. Well, a little over a month and Canada can have him back again for half a year.

I'm excited that they've implemented Co-Pilot into Word and trying that out, only that feature doesn't seem to have been rolled out to me yet. I don't know if he was joking or not, but in his email, Tom said it was creepy to have Co-Pilot call him by his name when he was telling me about this feature. Why is it creepy? It's only using the names we used when we created the accounts. He’s probably joking but anyway, when I first opened Co-Pilot to ask how to add it, I got an Englishman who asked my name, and I just said Rainbow. I switched the voice to an American woman, and when we were done talking, she addressed me by my real name.

I have never had a rat smell this bad. We had multiple rats in a place half this size and it still didn't stink like this, so I think it has something to do with her aging hormones (we’ve mostly had males). It’s not her that smells but her pee. Between that and the fact that she can't get around as well, it's time to move her into the smaller cage so she can get around easier, and it should be less stinky, too. Now that I've had my coffee and my protein shake and woken up as much as I'm going to, I’m ready to get on with that.