Sunday, March 3, 2019

Stubborn as ever.

Photo copyright Aji, 2019; all rights reserved.
So. On top of everything else we're dealing with right now, we spent last night on that. In the freezing, pouring rain. Fortunately, it was our own vet on call last night, and since we trust him in ways we don't anyone else but his partner, we took him in. Three hours and more than $456 later, we brought home a very woozy, wobbly Raven. 

The hell of it, none of us can figure out what or how. Some of the problematic neighbor dogs were making incursions onto our side of the fence, and I had thought that I had prevented Raven from going over there every time. It seems I missed an episode of it somewhere along the line. We thought is was a wire cut; they all go tearing between the barbed-wire strands like it's not there, and despite his cancer and the extra 30 or so pounds he's hauling around as a result of the abdominal tumor, Raven, stubborn as ever, still thinks he's invincible. But it wasn't a wire cut. Ted said it was either an example of just a really unlucky landing of another dog's fang or toenail, with incredible force, or something sharp fell on Raven's side. Given all the crap on [not our land], that last is entirely possible. At any rate, it sliced through both layers of dermis, all the way into the muscle, and did some significant trauma to the muscle itself. Two layers of stitches, for what we're estimating is a total of around 40 stitches (maybe more). And, of course, anesthesia and and IV drip. He's in this same spot on the floor right now, snoring away. He's also feeling well enough to think he can chase the neighbor dogs, and to bully Kit for purposes of showing who's boss around here.

Not what I needed right now. And a new wrinkle for the folks taking care of our animals while we're dealing with my surgery to have to deal with. The back-up person came out a while ago. She's great; I met her ten years ago when she was on call the Sunday afternoon that Major got bitten by a snake while trying to protect a very young Raven and She-Wolf from it. Yeah, that was the time I couldn't reach anyone initially and had to do the suck-and-spit routine on a dog's muzzle. Then I packed it with our traditional medicine, and by the time I could get him to the vet, they could barely find the fang marks.

We had to run errands this morning, picking up supplies and extra dog food and whatever so that when this all happens, these folks have everything they need. We may have to go very nearly at a moment's notice; my doc wanted me in for surgery this week, but I have no idea what the scheduling will be. So many variables, and so little information available right now. The stress is crushing. And after dealing with Raven bleeding all over me last night, and worrying about how his body would deal with the anesthesia given the advanced state of his own cancer, I'm dealing with both massive physical pain and a lot of shortness of breath and other stuff today. It's suddenly much harder than it was, this knowing-but-not-knowing; symptoms and dysfunctions that I thought I'd made peace with by putting them down to my autoimmune disease or other stuff suddenly take on a whole new color now. What's being caused by this tumor in my throat? What isn't? What's evidence of its spread? So much has been wrong for so long, and I've had to adjust to that, and now it's all been upended in a new and dangerous way. 

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. My doc has now said that they will not do that, but we all know how that goes; she's not affiliated with them and they have n't given me any information of any kind yet. 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.

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