Yesterday turned out to be a shitty day. First, I get a call from the woman who handles the finances regarding my upcoming surgery, and she tells me it's going to be a little over $400. So just when I start to get excited that we're not going to max out the out-of-pocket cost of $1200, she goes on to tell me that that's only the doctor's fee. The hospital fee would likely be two or three times that much. 

Then my day gets shittier when she starts talking about a pre-op appointment. I shouldn't be so surprised, and this would be fine if it weren't for my schedule. I'm going to have to get up in the middle of my sleep for this and then try to get back on track for surgery. So the next few weeks are going to be incredibly hard on me, and better be worth it in the end. I wish I could snap my fingers and jump ahead to March 3rd!

Tom scared the shit out of me yesterday, and I feel like it was my fault. Just like most people can't handle complaints, he can't handle my stress very well. It's contagious, apparently. I stepped into his room to find him sprawled out on the bed, saying his left arm hurt, and he lost feeling in his hand. Fortunately, it was just caused by stress, and according to what I looked up, stress can cause that to happen. He didn't have any chest pain or any other symptoms with it. I've had a million symptoms from stress and anxiety, but never that one. The thing that shook me the most about it was the reminder that this would one day be a reality. He may not necessarily die of a heart attack, and I don't know if it will be sudden or if we'll know it's coming, but sooner or later - someday - I'm going to have to face that horrible moment when I lose him, and then be forced to follow him for the same two reasons I've always known I would have to. Because I couldn't manage without him, and I couldn't stand the loneliness and depression either. I just wish he wouldn't be so rude when he doesn't feel well and snap at me like he does. I don't do that to him. At least not like he does with me.

I took 5 mg of melatonin with clonazepam and definitely slept better, but my fucking nose shorted my sleep. Fortunately, I was able to nap a little later. I don't want to get my hopes up too high, but Tom was pointing out that perhaps my nose is what's been causing my apnea all along. Well, I know the snorting isn't normal for me. Not one to usually get off easy, I think I more than likely did develop sleep apnea with age and weight gain, but the turbinate reduction should reduce the snorting. I don't think I'll ever get out of needing a CPAP, but I might eventually be able to nap without one. The fatigue started before I noticed my nose getting stuffy. My only other concern is after they do the turbinate reduction, since they're not going to repair my valves, does this mean I wouldn't be able to breathe well with a mouthguard? Because it would definitely be in my best interest to try to get a mouthguard before the year is out, since it won't cost us anything, since we will have hit the out-of-pocket max.

Anyway, I had a dream that there was a little tumor embedded in my skin. In reality, I may have an AK spot on my thigh. It's the least of my concerns now, but I may eventually show it to Rhonda and see what she thinks. 

I'm down a pound and a half, but I can't believe I'm going to lose much more or keep off what I've lost.