At 10:51 AM yesterday, I was awakened from my nap by the sound of the backdoor opening and shutting. I heard Tipper call me by name, “Charles!” three times. While the kids do get home early on Wednesdays, this was too early. So, I called back, “Tipp? Is that you?” There was no answer.
Concerned, I tossed Solaris from my shoulder (where he sleeps when I’m in bed), and headed for the kitchen, still calling, “Tipp? Is that you?” But there was no one there. There was no indication that anyone had ever been there. The door was shut (thank goodness). The gate between the kitchen and living room was shut. Fat Guy hopped onto the back of the couch and meowed for attention.
Worried that this might be one of those unexplained psychic connections, I sent Tipper a text. Sure, she was in school and she’s not supposed to have her phone in school, but her teachers allow it. I had to ask, “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Why?” she responded.
“I thought I heard you call my name,” I said.
“I’m at school LOL,” was her response.
Well, fuck. After 18 months without them, I’m back to having auditory hallucinations again. Only this time, the cause almost certainly is not the chemo meds. I messaged my oncologist’s nurse practitioner, who suggested contacting my neurologist. I called the neurology office and they said I need a new referral because of the change in insurance. By now, it was 5:15 and the doctor’s office was closed. Requesting the referral was number one on my list of things to do this morning.
I don’t need this added complication in my life right now. Yet, here it is, fucking things up, causing me to question reality. There haven’t been any visual hallucinations, but who the fuck knows what today will bring?
Rain fell throughout the night. More will fall this morning. Medication hasn’t been enough to touch the pain. The animals pushed in close, three cats, two dogs, to prevent me from rolling around all over the bed.
Making matters worse, my editing screen keeps shifting back and forth to the right two pixels as I type. WordPress had a major update yesterday, so I’m assuming that is to blame. The faster I type, the faster the shift, making it a visual frustration. Yes, I tried closing the browser and opening a new one. That didn’t help. So, this entry is going to be considerably shorter than normal.
The kids are fine. Kat’s resting.
Republicans now have control of both houses of Congress, but don’t think that it’s going to be the rubber stamp the Felon wanted. They chose a moderate as Senate leader, and at least one Senator has said that Matt Gaetz’s nomination as Attorney General is DOA. This could get interesting. One news story this morning claims that insiders are already creating a list of Pentagon officials they want fired, presumably to remove any obstacles to illegally using US troops against American citizens. There is a flurry underway to cement the Felon’s authority within the first 100 days of the administration. (Please forgive the lack of links to the stories, but with this infernal shifting it’s impossible to pull off.)
The NYTimes is suggesting friend chicken for Thanksgiving. Seriously. It’s a sizeable argument.
I’m sorry, I need WordPress to fix this shifting problem. My head is about to explode. Maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow.
At 10:51 AM yesterday, I was awakened from my nap by the sound of the backdoor opening and shutting. I heard Tipper call me by name, “Charles!” three times. While the kids do get home early on Wednesdays, this was too early. So, I called back, “Tipp? Is that you?” There was no answer.
Concerned, I tossed Solaris from my shoulder (where he sleeps when I’m in bed), and headed for the kitchen, still calling, “Tipp? Is that you?” But there was no one there. There was no indication that anyone had ever been there. The door was shut (thank goodness). The gate between the kitchen and living room was shut. Fat Guy hopped onto the back of the couch and meowed for attention.
Worried that this might be one of those unexplained psychic connections, I sent Tipper a text. Sure, she was in school and she’s not supposed to have her phone in school, but her teachers allow it. I had to ask, “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Why?” she responded.
“I thought I heard you call my name,” I said.
“I’m at school LOL,” was her response.
Well, fuck. After 18 months without them, I’m back to having auditory hallucinations again. Only this time, the cause almost certainly is not the chemo meds. I messaged my oncologist’s nurse practitioner, who suggested contacting my neurologist. I called the neurology office and they said I need a new referral because of the change in insurance. By now, it was 5:15 and the doctor’s office was closed. Requesting the referral was number one on my list of things to do this morning.
I don’t need this added complication in my life right now. Yet, here it is, fucking things up, causing me to question reality. There haven’t been any visual hallucinations, but who the fuck knows what today will bring?
Rain fell throughout the night. More will fall this morning. Medication hasn’t been enough to touch the pain. The animals pushed in close, three cats, two dogs, to prevent me from rolling around all over the bed.
Making matters worse, my editing screen keeps shifting back and forth to the right two pixels as I type. WordPress had a major update yesterday, so I’m assuming that is to blame. The faster I type, the faster the shift, making it a visual frustration. Yes, I tried closing the browser and opening a new one. That didn’t help. So, this entry is going to be considerably shorter than normal.
The kids are fine. Kat’s resting.
Republicans now have control of both houses of Congress, but don’t think that it’s going to be the rubber stamp the Felon wanted. They chose a moderate as Senate leader, and at least one Senator has said that Matt Gaetz’s nomination as Attorney General is DOA. This could get interesting. One news story this morning claims that insiders are already creating a list of Pentagon officials they want fired, presumably to remove any obstacles to illegally using US troops against American citizens. There is a flurry underway to cement the Felon’s authority within the first 100 days of the administration. (Please forgive the lack of links to the stories, but with this infernal shifting it’s impossible to pull off.)
The NYTimes is suggesting friend chicken for Thanksgiving. Seriously. It’s a sizeable argument.
I’m sorry, I need WordPress to fix this shifting problem. My head is about to explode. Maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow.
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