The chemo drug I’m on is in short supply. The call from the hospital pharmacy that supplies me the drug called yesterday. At the moment, they have enough to get me through the summer, but they’ve notified my oncologist that we may need to be ready to make alternative arrangements by this fall. I’m not sure exactly what that means in terms of lengthening or shortening treatment. I see the oncologist next month. But the threat is real.
This is part of a nationwide shortage of over 300 medicines. Adderal is at the top of the list as are ADHD meds. No one is saying what, specifically, is driving the shortages. Everything from outstripping supplies to disruptions in delivering raw materials is part of the cause, making it more challenging to come to the problem with an easy solution. I don’t recommend having an emergency, either. Common crash cart supplies are on the list as well. This shortage stands to affect everyone.
Rain is forecasted to continue until noon today. At the moment, I don’t feel as bad as I did yesterday. The debilitating headache dropped off around 7:00 last night. That still didn’t translate to getting a decent amount of sleep. I’ve been awake since a little after 4:00 this morning. Hamilton was especially snuggly so he got in close and we looked at what I’ve been missing on Instagram until it was time for us to get up.
I still don’t feel like doing much, though. I’m sore. I’m achy. Getting my mind to focus on any one thing for more than a minute seems impossible. I think the weekend is supposed to be warmer. I’d love to at least sit outside while the dogs run and do their thing. Even the dogs have kept their outside experience to a minimum the past couple of days.
One interesting thing that did cross my eyes as we were reading this morning, was a story from Vanity Fair about how South Dakota tribes are keeping the state’s right-wing nut job of a governor off their lands. I don’t know how well this might work elsewhere, given that we’re talking about very specific tribal reservations. The best part: they didn’t have to involve the BIA, the courts, or anything government-related. Their councils simply voted that for her to step foot on the reservations amounts to trespassing and that she would be removed if she does so. Oklahoma is in a situation where their sorry excuse for a governor needs to stay out of tribal-controlled land as well, in my opinion. I hope my friends within the Cherokee and Choctaw tribes look at following this example and keeping the governor’s ass in Oklahoma City.
By the way, you know Doug’s not the only one who can comment here. Anyone can. Go ahead. Try it.
Morning Update: 04/20/24
If you’re not celebrating today, or at least thinking about celebrating if you’re not physically able, then can you really be my friend? Of course, I can’t partake, either. Not only is it not legal in Indiana [insert stifled guffaw here] it can interfere with my meds. There are some edibles that I can tolerate, but since Kat’s not here for the weekend I’ll have to make do with coffee. 😪 We have to give up some of the best things because of cancer. I’m not liking that part at all. I guess if I wanted to give up something this would be the time to do it. But I’m too old goddammit. Now’s the time to be indulging in all the pleasures we’ve put off earlier in our lives. No one over 60 should have to say no to any form of pleasure. If it kills us, at least we went out doing something fun instead of lying in a hospital strapped to tubes.
I tried to get a lot done yesterday, but it didn’t happen at the rate I wanted. Part of that was because I couldn’t get the pictures to do what I wanted. There are times when even the best technology available isn’t sufficient to read my mind and deliver the image my brain is seeing. After a couple of hours of arguing with Adobe over what is and isn’t a violation of the terms of service, I just gave up. So help me, their censors are apparently offended by people having a chest at all.
Just in case you missed them, though, we posted the following articles yesterday:
I mean, we try to be entertaining even when we’re feeling like whatever that was the cat just threw up on the floor. We want to give you something to do besides playing with that tear in your underwear; you’re only going to make it worse.
We investigated more apartments yesterday but came up empty. Too many listings don’t tell you if all utilities are paid. I’m assuming if they don’t mention it, they’re not. There are also far too many listings for studio apartments that are two or three times what I make in a month! WHAT THE LIVING FUCK! That doesn’t make sense for any apartment, I don’t care where it’s located or what amenities are included. And at that price, someone had better be bringing me breakfast each morning. Ya’ll are kinda stupid if you’re paying that much. Seriously! What a fucking waste of income!
One of the issues that I can’t seem to get past is the fact that once I take the chemo meds, I have a little less than two hours before I’m dead asleep. This does not make me happy. I have to take the meds with breakfast. I can only put off breakfast for so long before my body starts to complain. The hungrier I am when I eat, the shorter period I have after taking the meds before I’m completely knocked out. This drives me nuts because midmorning is one of the best times of day to get things done and where am I? In bed, surrounded by these two dogs, as sound asleep as if it were the middle of the night. Trying to juggle the timing so that I can get things done is unnerving.
Oh, here’s the ridiculously stupid headline of the day: Woman Who Didn’t Get Raptured Demands a Refund on Her Generous Tips. There’s stupid, and then there’s “Oh my god, do you even have a brain.” This certainly falls into the latter category. I can’t imagine ever going back and asking a server to return all or a portion of a tip you’d left. Just how fucking brain-dead does a person have to be to do something like that?
If I had limitless income, which I don’t, I would buy every woman on the planet a copy of Wonder Woman #8, the issue where Wonder Woman is under the influence of a religious (Christian) nut job. It’s only 30 pages, extremely well illustrated, and easy to read. My hope would be that women with religious assholes for husbands would find themselves in this story and find their own path to escaping the mind games men and churches use to keep them bound in marital slavery where they’re not respected or valued as anything more than property. If you know someone who is in this trap, maybe buy them a copy and slip it to them in between the pages of the Bible they’re forced to read. Consider it a mission of mercy.
Okay. I really need to eat now. Ugh. Check back with me after I wake up this afternoon.
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