What? You think you could title a post high?

I spent an hour and a half waiting to see my oncologist yesterday and left without seeing him. I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t sit in the wheelchair another minute longer. Couldn’t handle the stifling exam room. (I can’t bear not to have air moving around me, or I feel like I’m suffocating, so I think I’m going to buy one of these. Because every exam room has my body contemplating a panic attack.)

There was the thirty minutes to get there yesterday, and the thirty minutes home, too. And I just couldn’t be upright anymore. So Dan told the nurse we were out.

The waiting room was busy when we got there, so I knew it wasn’t going to be a fun time. I don’t blame the doctors or staff; it’s not like they can tell some people to not have cancer.

I think we’d all volunteer as tribute, though. So not sure what that would mean for their jobs.

Ha.

I spent the rest of yesterday in bed, and today’s shaping up to be much more of the same. Tomorrow I have a rheumatology appointment, and thinking about it makes me want to weep.

Sure there’s the financial cost of it all, but the physical toll. [Screams into void.] I want to feel better, and I want to stop going to all these appointments. I’d previously viewed those two things as entirely at odds with each other, but maybe they’re the same.

I was so overheated by yesterday morning’s excursion that I couldn’t sleep without a fan blowing on me, the thermostat set to 70 °F, and an ice pack breaking the underboob heat feedback loop. And even with all of that ridiculousness, I still didn’t sleep very well.

As of this writing, I’m going to go to the rheumatologist appointment tomorrow because this is the place that won’t let me make more appointments if I cancel again. I hate them. I also don’t have any reason to believe they have an answer for me.

Pretty sure they’re going to ask me to pee in a cup again. Which is problematic for a couple of reasons. First, I intentionally dehydrate myself before trips. Second, it’s just a physical impossibility right now.

Ope. Abrupt exit. Weed’s working, and I want to notice what not hurting is like. Bye, losers.

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