On the way to the ENT’s office to sign the consent forms. Appointments, appointments, appointments…it never ends!

Not as tired as yesterday, but sleep was still a little fraggy. Stress, I guess. Hopefully, it will improve after surgery. Air escaped my mouth once due to making sure I was more elevated so as not to have breathing issues.

The only dream I remember was walking with a woman through some underground tunnel. Eventually, I turned around to see that she was no longer behind me. I then became worried that an animal had gotten hold of her. Sure enough, a mountain lion suddenly appeared, slowly creeping toward me. I ran out of instinct and into our kitchen, which was where the tunnel led to. However, the door to the tunnel was only a screen, so Tom beat the thing with a stick until it turned into a typical domestic cat, LOL.

I asked Becky how often she changes her frame and mask. She changes the frame yearly and the mask every 6 months. So I just changed both and won’t change the frame till 2027 or the mask until July.

Decided to give up on Melanie and Toni. They just don’t seem invested in the friendship, but I get that a big part of that is having kids. Besides, they’ve been ignoring me more and more, and I’ve gotten really big on not reaching out to those who don’t reach out to me. Besides, we just don’t have the commonalities that Aly and I had. Aly made time for me. These people don’t. I didn’t block them on Facebook, but I got rid of our group chat, deleted them, unfollowed Melanie on YouTube, and blocked them both on PB. There’s a reason for that last move, and that’s because I miss writing there publicly (not as much as I share with friends elsewhere) and seeing who comes around but without comments. I wouldn’t have wanted to prevent them from commenting, and I also don’t want comments from just anyone. I’m just a writer who doesn’t mind being read by strangers but has lost her desire for additional socializing and unwanted advice. 

Heading home now. I signed the consent forms that could have been signed online, answered a few questions—surprisingly, it was only a few—and they assured us they would call Rhonda’s office and clarify things, and that was all I needed to do. So all that’s left to do is pay the outrageous fee that should be on the government, await the text telling me what time I need to be at the hospital, then show up.

Still torn on the imaging thing, though I’ve got time to decide. Sure, I’m curious about the CAC score, though I don’t think it would be bad, and I definitely have no fears of anything sinister showing up in the mammogram. The only potential problem is that if I were wrong and surprised by something negative turning up, how would I explain to Rhonda that I'm not going to do anything about it? Then again, do I really need to explain anything to anyone? No would be no, and she'd just have to respect my decision.

Later... OMFG, I am so fucking pissed! What started as 3 appointments has now turned into 6! No sooner had we left the ENT and were crossing the parking lot to get in the car and head to the charger, when I said—in response to Tom saying all we had to do was wait for surgery—that I wasn’t sure about that since they kept sneaking in appointments. Well, we got to the charger just to get a phone call directly from Rhonda. Not only do I have to go to the fucking lab tomorrow for blood work and a urinalysis, but I also have to see her at 7:30 Monday morning.

I appreciate her squeezing me in that early, but OMFG! When is it ever going to end?! This is killing me. I went from appointments every month to every week and now every day. What other surprises are going to be thrown at us along the way? I just don’t understand why they couldn’t be better coordinated, but apparently, Rhonda has to give her own clearance, just like the hospital.

I am SO stressed out and seriously feeling punished for having health issues, and like something is trying to stop me from having surgery. I swear to God, if I get my surgery and it doesn’t work, or the sleep disturbances continue along with the fatigue, or I get something else debilitating, I am so not dealing with it. I’m dead. In a heartbeat. No ifs, ands, or buts. Twelve years of health issues, and I can't take anymore.

So no, I’m not doing the imaging, free or not. I would not only not want to deal with Rhonda pressuring me to get treatment if something showed up, but if something did, I wouldn't want to know about it. I just want to live until I no longer can. Meanwhile, the stress is killing me, and the pressure to keep staying up later and later to make appointments is also a killer.