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| Photo copyright Aji, 2019; all rights reserved. |
Haven't seen anything else I was hoping for today —no labs, no referral. It's taking sheer force of will to keep a lid on it right now; it's not just the fear, but also the anger knowing now, as I most assuredly do, that this could have been caught on November Fucking Tenth of Two Thousand Seventeen. It was seen, and dismissed as nothing. Fifteen months and more for this to become a much bigger problem, and now I still can't get any fucking answers. Such is our so-called "health-care system."
On top of that, Wings and I both had to be in town separately, and I arrived home first . . . to find Raven shaken and shaking. The damn dogs from up the road had apparently been over, and the Kit and Cricket went after them, which meant that Raven had to follow along, and he got taken down and rolled. That wouldn't have been too bad, save the blow to his ego, but for the bite on his left flank, which, yes, I have already treated. But in his condition, with this tumor, he doesn't need anything that could do internal damage, and I am furious with no outlet for it (this is exactly the source of the ferals, and I am so goddamned tired of feeding half-dead dogs and patching up their wounds and trying to soothe their psychological scars, only to have the process repeat itself endlessly with these assholes.) Valentine's Day, my ass. I'm not feeling especially loving toward a big chunk of alleged humankind right now.
So it's looking like I've got to marinate in my own fury over the animals right now, and it also looks like I've got to wait two more weeks before I have any hope of getting a referral for the testing that will give me a solid diagnosis. Not that it stops the symptoms from ratcheting up daily, as has been the case for quite a while now; I'm feeling worse by the day, and it's measurable physically, not psychosomatic. Doesn't stop the worry over money, either, given the massive outlays that we know are coming down the pike. There's a lot of year ahead of us. If it is cancer, the costs are going to skyrocket very fast, and 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 whatever it is. So much fear intertwined with all of this, and no end in sight. We need sales. Badly. 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 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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