Visiting the out-laws with Belovedest. Last night we had dinner out at the Dirty Bird (chicken bar & grill) so this morning's breakfast is leftovers. Which I had in bed, due to the scarcity of tables in the hotel room, and my general unwillingness to get out of bed before nine.

Unfortunately, breakfast was crispy chicken Caesar salad, with buffalo sauce on the side. And after I finished that, I was dipping baby carrots in the sauce. And there was a spill.

I can't seem to face up to the facts
I'm tense and nervous and I can't relax
I can't sleep, 'cause my bed's on fire
Don't touch me, I'm a real live wire
Spicy pillow, qu'est-ce que c'est?
Fa-fa-fa-fa, fa-fa-fa-fa, far better
Run-run, run-run-run away
Oh-oh-oh

I have:

* 3 appointments tomorrow, all remote (for later today versions of "tomorrow", because I rarely get to sleep before midnight)
* 2 appointments Wednesday
* Only one appointment Thursday, but it looks like a doozy
* The morning primary care adjacent appointment on Wednesday got scheduled today (Monday) by using the magic combination of phrases "my oncologist said" and "new lump"
* (it's probably a ganglion cyst, since I have a history of those going back to the 1980s)

And then I managed to drive myself to Pained Noises & a complete lack of energy today by:
* ( Read more... )

Suspension of disbelief = I will not start verbally poking holes in the physics of this action movie until we are out of the movie theater

Suspension in disbelief = a frozen state of constant WTF

July 22: I message my symptoms team for a refill on my primary pain med (which is still only the next step up from Tylenol 3). And yet, it's what keeps me from regularly screaming when I exert myself in a way that stresses my right hip. I have 21 + 5 (a week plus a day and 2/3) left.

July 24: A list of detailed follow-up questions from the symptoms nurse, and my detailed reply. About 20 left.

July 25:
Hi [Azz],

I wanted to let you know that [doctor] sent a refill of the [med] to the Costco!

[Discussion of discontinuing another med]

And can I just say how much I enjoy your MyChart messages; I am always impressed at how in tune you are with your body.

Take care,
[Nurse]

Me: It's time to renew my prior auth again, alas.

Nurse: Aw dang!
No worries though, you gave us time (thank you by the way).
I have asked our billing specialist to help with this so we will call the Costco when we get it and then let you know.
Thanks,
[Nurse]

About 17 left.

***

July 26: About 14 left.
July 27: About 11 left.

***

July 28
Different nurse:
Hi [Azz],

We needed a new prior authorization on [med]. We received approval for this over the weekend. However, Costco has been unable to get this medication to process. They are in the process of calling your insurance to figure out where the issue lies.

[Image of prior auth as sent to doctor]

I will keep you updated

Thanks,
[Nurse]

Me: Thanks for the update!

***

A hair bleaching, trip through the shower, and time to drip dry later, I figure I will call Costco pharmacy and see what they've discovered, since they're still open and the symptoms care office is not.

[Call time: 6 minutes 54 seconds]

***

Me: I talked with darling [Don't Panic Pharmacy Assistant] at the pharmacy, who had my back the last time UHC was like this, and we had a real good chat about the state of things at UHC, and she is putting me through for 12 days so I can have some breathing room while you and she go and wrestle alligators. I will get that picked up tonight and we'll see when UHC can be made to see the light.


I drive to the pharmacy.
I receive my jar.
I tell our friend that I was so glad it was her who picked up when I called.
Don't Panic Pharmacy Assistant tells me that when she took my call about the prior auth on my med, the rest of the pharmacy was looking at her funny, because she swapped registers straight out of professional. "Is that a family member on the phone?" And yet again we had words about United Healthcare. Also, the pharmacy we used to go to is shutting down; she has this from her friend and ours, the guy with the Emperor's New Groove pin. He prefers to stay with that company, so he's not coming to Costco.

***

About 8 left, plus 12 days.

After Belovedest and I got our Home Depot errand finished, we went out to the car.

Belovedest: 6'4", white, short clipped brown hair, receding hairline, white Honeywell dome type N-95 mask, white T-shirt reading" Classically Trained" with a bunch of old-school video game controllers (but not any as old as the ones they started with), khaki colored cargo shorts, dark plastic slide type sandals.

Me: 5'6.5", white, shoulder length dark brown and variously blue fine 2c wavy hair held back with a grey rhinestone headband, violet eyeshadow with black liner behind blue frame rectangular glasses, black Breath of the Nature KF-94 mask, black chain necklace with spikes, silver star necklace, dark blue velour cardigan over a full length flowing embroidered black Holy Clothing dress, smartwatch with rainbow band, several medical bracelets and a medical necklace, some silver bangles with black, violet, and labradorite semiprecious gems, toeless black compression stockings, and a charcoal and violet pair of serious business support hiking sandals, just done driving a motorized grocery cart.

Him: sitting in his candy-colored Tesla, medium colored hair, with a full mountain man beard.

"You fuckin' weirdos," he muttered, deliberately loud enough to be heard inside the open windows of Belovedest's Toaster.

"Same to you, buddy!" I called as he started to pull out, waving my hand out the window.

One of the LED bulbs in the bathroom vanity developed a distracting (which is code for sensory nope) flicker. Since the porch fixture takes the same bulb, I proposed that the ailing bulb become a public nuisance rather than a private one.


One of my oncologists (I believe I have dubbed her Dr. Bitsblobs, the oncology gynecologist) is retiring soon. So she has been bidding her patients farewell. Apparently I am a "gold star" patient in terms of trying my best to comply with medical advice, and for self-advocacy. A good grade in cancer, something that is normal to want and possible to achieve.

Susan visited!

Thorn didn't get carjacked by a Bigfoot.

Three shelves (10' length, more or less) have been assembled, put up on the north wall, and filled to great effect. This emptied 1 entire Billy (with slight double stacking). We therefore need bookends.

The empty Billy is now in the living room, with the top few shelves embookinated and various plastic craft-adjacent boxes on the lower shelves. This is making a significant dent in the chaos by my desk.

The shorter bookshelf is currently at the end of the hall, for lack of a better place to put it. I expect that if it stays there long, I will start racking up another set of incredible bruises, and I still don't know where the one on my right arm CAME from. (I remember that I walked into some corner on my sleepy and unstable way to bed and then went "well, THAT'll leave a mark!" but do I remember what that something WAS? No more than I remembered what things I'd rammed into when I was taking Drama in high school, and my legs were forever dotted with black and blue marks.)

Today after work, Belovedest has put up all the standards (upright rails) on the south wall, embracketed them with however many brackets we currently have, and has started to assemble board pieces into full length shelves.

Coincidentally, today I also got a notification from the hardware store that they are shipping the backordered brackets.

There is one free-loving* free-standing bookshelf remaining in the room, where it is cheerfully getting in the way. I suggested a different method of assembly which neither requires turning the boards lengthwise nor doing the assembly behind the Billy, which suggestion was well-received.

Eventually there will be enough Shelf in the media room that some of the things taking up floor space will be able to go on them.

Today I roused in the morning long enough to feel bleugh, then woke up in the afternoon feeling competent to Lounge. Still craving bacon at intervals.


* My high school freshman Biology class had a crucial typo in a sentence about free-living organisms. We reacted about how you'd expect.

Cat: "Me-ow!"
Me: "Me-ow! You-ow! We all ow!"

A hundred years from now, chroma key colors are going to be considered unlucky to wear in a set of professions like newscasting, and nobody is going to quite realize why.