Tinkerbella seems to be losing weight, not surprisingly. She looks especially smaller in the area that the tumor is. It's like it is feeding off the fat in that area or something. Or maybe it just seems smaller because the tumor is bigger. It sucks either way.

Anyway, Tom is still sick and is pretty sure he has the flu. I looked back in my journals from when we both were sick in Auburn, and that flu was a lot worse. I got it the day after he did. With this one, he hasn't had any coughing, congestion, sneezing, or sore throat. He's just felt very run down, and his stomach hasn't felt right, and he's had a fever on and off, but he's able to bring it down with ibuprofen and now Tylenol, which we had delivered today. We were both about to get flu shots, too!

I feel both horrible and hopeless. Even though I slept better, or at least thought I did and for a long time — just over 9 hours — I'm absolutely exhausted, but I don't feel like I've got what he's got. 

I was horrified to see my AHI score was 8. I don't know why low pressure has suddenly become non-therapeutic, but now I'm exactly where I feared I would be. I have to choose between a high AHI score or chipmunks, both of which will leave me exhausted. So between allergies, sleep apnea, chronic fatigue, and possibly my thyroid, I feel totally out of it and like I'm never going to beat this.

I know I thought that with the anxiety, but that was different. That turned out to be hormones that were inevitably going to settle down. This won't change and I won't get any younger. I could sit here and bitch once again about all the doctors and devices I wish I could have access to, but even if we had all the money in the world, doctors have never really helped me. They try though. They give me medication I can't handle and then they give me CPAPs that no one could have known would be an issue in the way that it is.

I still swear something is hell-bent on cursing my sleep. As soon as it saw that I found a workaround by lowering the pressure, my allergies get worse, although I don't remember having any breathing issues in my sleep last time around and I slept elevated throughout some of my sleep. I just can't see this passing after 8 years like the anxiety. This isn't as straightforward.

I'm totally thinking of ending it once again because I am so sick of the years of suffering. I have done nothing but struggle physically and emotionally for over a decade and I've had enough. One can only take so much. Research says that if I do what I'm thinking of doing, it should only take 15 minutes. It would be the longest, shittiest 15 minutes of my life, but I'd rather suffer for 15 more minutes than 15+ more years.

The question is when to do it. I don't want to leave Tom while he's sick. If I'm going to do this, he has to be out of the house. I hate to desert him and I really, really did want to be by his side for the rest of his life, but what good am I if I feel like shit so much of the time? So few are my good days, and every time I think I'm finally getting my life and health back on track, within a week or two it all goes to hell.

I find I get an even worse seal with the prong mask. I'll stick with the cradle.

Despite how long I slept, I only lost half a pound in my sleep. That is a tremendously slow metabolism even for me! Normally I lose one to two pounds in my sleep.

Ugh, I just did more research and it looks like if I do what I want to do, it could put Tom in danger — especially in a small house. Why do I feel like at the same time something up there has blessed me with Tom, it's also using him to keep me alive so I can suffer? Well, if there is anything up there — and that's still a big if — part of me wants to rebel and not give it the satisfaction of me living to suffer. On the other hand, I want to look it in the eye and be defiant and find a way to survive, no matter how miserable I may feel most of the time.

I would just hate to desert Tom. I would really prefer not to go until he does, and at that point then no, I wouldn't hesitate no matter what may lie beyond or who may be doing what to me. I would have ended it years ago if it wasn't for him. No doubt about that. And there's no doubt that whenever he goes, I'll want to do nothing but get gone.