What's gonna come out here?

Would that I could write this knowing noone is going to read it. Sure, I could write in some private spot, sduch as a word doc or a journal kep in my machine. My ego not so secretly wants to be read, but sometimes it can come out of me without much interference from ego. I want to look good, but more importantly especially now, I want to feel good.

Writing here was regular for about 10 months, and has tapered down to nearly zero. I do not know why, but I do know I have felt crappy between my own ears recently. The physical symptoms have gradually worsened though still not debilitating for more than 4 or 5 hours a day. Worse has been the mental/emotional . I had a couple conversations the past 2 weeks about I was so tired of being so sensitive and how I had just been putting emotions on the shelf. But as soon as I verbalized that a couple times, the crying began to trigger more readily. The weight of having incurable cancer began to feel heavier than last couple months. All the what's gonna happen to my family, friends etc? What will Jacki have to deal with - I just hate what this is and will put her through.

Some things do not help and instead make things worse. e had a trip to Hawaii planned for next week. In my mind it was sort of a "bucket list" item of a last big trip. Rather morose perhaps, but that is how it felt. Then the opportunity to be part of the new drug trial came up and changed the picture. Maybe I don't have to die antytime soon. However the timing of the trial and timing of Hawaii conflicted. Going back and forth to Bethesda changed our financial picture. We could not afford Hawaii and Bethesda travel. The timing is off. So we cancelled Hawaii.

The airline at first was fine with cancelling, and even said a letter from the doctors in Bethesda would work and we would get our airfare back in a week or so. But then they informed us that because we had trip imsuirance we would have to go through an insurance company. The nightmare began, Insurance- nightmare - the stereotype. They want reports from last six doctors, copies of office visit notes, proof of diagnosis. I think the requirements are a list of twelve items. To me it feels like a ton of weight and I just do not have the extra mental energy already in short supply.

Then I ask my oncologist for a copy of his notes. I receive them and read something that makes all that I go through sound like a cake walk. So now I get to confront my doc over his watered down notes. The notes indicate how really involved he no longer is in my case - he doesn't even know what
's going on. Another small draing action required to get his accurat report for the insurancel.

Is my COBRA running out soon? When would Medicare kick in? We received a bill for $1200 for my recent CT scan. Chest, abdomen and pelvis, over $700 each. All in one scan, but billed as three separate events. Jacki is working hard at her job and dealing with her end of this cancer scene. My job is dealing with these seemingly minor issues. My head, and most of anybody's heads view my symptoms and tasks as minor. But it all feels near insurmountable to me. Sure, I know, one bite at a time.

So, I get up in the morning, do our coffee, bring it and the paper to jacki, read the paper and work Soduko with Jacki. Good quality time with my wife. Then she is off to work leaving about 3 hours for me to get things done before taking the little white pill of cancer slowing poison. Then I get to be non functional for 5 hours, give or take, Can't walk straight, drive, climb stairs.. I can talk, but look out for whatever words might leave my lips. That leaves about 3 hours in the evening before I am just too tired to do much at all. Recovery meetings, be a sponsor, be social and then lounge with the energy left over before twilight zone lethargy. Everyday. Everyday. Everyday.

The price the pill extracts for breaking it's scheduled demands is increased dysfunction for the next day or 2. I will not read this over beore clicking on publish. here it is unexpurgated. My hunch is it comes off as complaining. Some days are just like that.
Bill