Reflections.

Photo copyright Aji, 2019; all rights reserved.

Welp, February has gone out with . . . not really a bang, just a lot of fury and aggravation that's already extended itself into March. Yesterday's reflections will become tomorrow's realities, and right now, they're more than a little scary.

I finally got a look at the path report yesterday. It's never a good sign when the first sentence describes you as "a challenging case." I now know what the uncertainty is with the DX, though. No, it's no more encouraging. It's actually a 60-75% chance that it's medullary thyroid cancer. The other 25-40% implicit in that figure is because some of the cells show similarities with what's found in Hürthle cell carcinoma, what's generally classified as a subvariant of the far less problematic follicular version of thyroid cancer (although this variant is not at all "less problematic"; it's rare and it's dangerous). It's also one that specialists increasingly are defining as its own separate type. In women under 40, both Hürthle cell and medullary have pretty good long-term outlooks, assuming they're caught in time and they get all of it out before it has a chance to spread.  But 40 is far in the rearview mirror and there's already a significant risk of it having spread. Yes, that's what I'm saying.

So what this means is that time is of the essence now. And when they do schedule it, we may have to move very fast. To that end, I spent several hours late yesterday trying to line up animal care for when it happens. We're going to need a back-up, so I need to take care of that this weekend, if possible. So many variables, and so little information available right now. The stress is crushing.

And as I keep saying, I'm going to have push sales really hard now, because this is escalating fast, and I'm already in the hole on medical stuff more than $30K again. I'm so tired of being dunned by the people who helped put me here by ignoring this, but here we are. That's adding to all the stress, and I have got to figure out a way to bring in enough to get out from under some of it before it literally kills me. We paid out four figures to the tax man on Friday, and there will be more of that to come. We'll have shelled out about a thousand more by the end of this week, plus the $1,600 for the path bill that I couldn't pay online because they neglected to include my patient number, so now I have to wait for the paper copy. If we have to pay up front for the surgery, there will be no surgery, so for the sake of my own survival, I have to pray that they take me in, do it, and then bill me. Yes, I'm scared. Now is when all those doubts creep in, when you wonder whether all the other symptoms you've attributed to something else all this time are in fact tied up with this, and if so, what that means for your outlook (or lack of one). And the fear over the prospect of not being able to get the needed surgery would be paralyzing if I didn't spend literally every minute pushing it as far out of mind as possible.

The Pueblo's been closed since the first of February, and will remain so through most of March. Sales are vanishingly slim, and there's a lot of year ahead of us. We now know that it is cancer, that the costs are going to skyrocket very fast, and that we have no way of paying for it, and neither of us cares; we're doing this. Determination is the word; with Wings's help, I'm going to beat it. So much fear intertwined with all of this, and no end in sight. Even so, all this stuff is piling up fast and I have to get us through the whole year, not just the next two weeks, so please share the links (or use them, if anyone's so inclined):

• My Patreon, The Interstices (Writing Between Worlds) (and if you subscribe today you won't be billed until March 1st for February);
• Wings's site, for sales, with lots of new items posted;
• Wings's direct PayPal link;
• A way to buy me coffee (which actually goes to all of our medical bills, which continue to mount);
• Amazon wishlist, which mostly consists of animal and household stuff, with the kibble back on it; we gave several of our existing bags to a local disabled vet with a starving rescue dog who needed the help;
• Partial registry #1, from Bed, Bath and Beyond. I've added two or three new kitchen-y things on it now, stuff that I didn't realize we'd need.

All we want, to be able to have some confidence in making it through the whole year with whatever they're going to find going wrong in my body, is to make some sales. That's it: sales; nothing else. But I haven't been able to make even that happen, and the stress is telling. Good vibes for Raven are still welcome (he's still hanging with us, and I need him to be safe while we're out). But I could use some, too. We all could also use some help with sharing Wings's site (and testimonials, if you got 'em). Thanks.

All content, including photos and text, are copyright Aji, 2019; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.