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?