somniloquence

My last rambling post was all about Hazel putting me in the poorhouse by chowing down on a poisonous lily, so I didn't mention some things that have been happening with the cancer. I have met my new oncologist as well as the ARNP who I'll probably see most often, and had my first treatment at Swedish Cancer Institute. It's very much the same but also incredibly different, and I have to go up and down a lot of floors for different procedures plus take a really long time in between them waiting for stuff (also the infusion center was insanely chaotic and I really hope it's true that that's not normal). So longer appointments and more ... I don't know, bustling around. But there's a large care team this time, it's pretty wild.

The big thing was that when I met with the nurse practitioner, she said that my numbers looked really good and had been holding steady for a good long time now, and that of course it would be up to Dr. Namburi, but she was pretty sure that they would be able to allow me to take a break from treatment. They call it a remission, though myeloma remission is different from most other cancers--you're not out of the woods if you go for X length of time in remission, you're just holding steady without treatment or with minimal treatment until it inevitably returns. But people are going for longer and longer periods without that happening now, and a lot of doctors (and the nurse said this too) believe it will be considered "curable" soon.

ANYway, she also said I could have a good long life, etc etc, and while I didn't talk about it much with the actual doctor, she also mentioned how generally healthy I am overall and she felt really positive about my disease and treatment response, but...I honestly haven't figured out how I feel about this. I honestly never really wanted a long life--if I'm this crappy at 67, why would I want to be 77? I've been ready to go since my twin sister died in 2005.

Everyone I tell is all like "Yay! Congratulations!" but I'm like "Maybe?" I just don't quite know what to feel. I'm sure some of it is that whether I stop most of the treatment (the daily chemo pill, the monthly shot) and just have labs every three months, or just have the shot and labs every few months, whatever it ends up being, it's still there. This office doesn't use some of the drugs that I had to take the first few years, which I despised, so I'm super happy about that, for sure. But I don't think the neuropathy in my feet is ever going away, and the incredible fatigue is still there, and my immune system will still be pretty suppressed. But I won't have to do a third of what I do now, so it evens out, I suppose.

Some of it is that this kinda becomes your identity, in a way. It was great when I was able to go from weekly treatment to monthly, and then going to three months would be more great, but...I think I'm always going to see myself as "I have an incurable cancer" and living with that. I just don't know what to think about all of it.

The people I've known who had this have almost all had remissions (sometimes many years) that eventually ended when it came back, and they died very soon after having it recur. Even with folks living longer, the average life expectancy is still around 5 years. So that feels weird. I guess I don't have to know what to think for a while--I have treatment through end of October and then I assume they'll make their decision. Before Dr. Li was forced to close his office, he and I had been planning to discuss next steps, since my numbers were staying consistently low, but before we could, he got the bad news. Now I'm discussing it, I suppose, but this wasn't what I thought would come out in the discussion.

So yeah, anyhoo, that's where the cancer news is. Now I need to get focused and try valiantly to get into a writing mode while I have a weekend break in between floods of editing projects, after not having written a word in almost a year. I don't know if I remember how to do this, let alone remember how to write something decent.

My icon is how I am feeling pretty much 90 percent of the time.

I had my final chemo treatment with my oncologist's office on Thursday--I was a little disappointed going in because they'd had to reschedule me with Dr. Li's physician's assistant, Taylor, because he was going to have to spend his next to last week doing paperwork for evil Optum. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to say goodbye. But as I was talking to his receptionist/admin, he materialized with his lunch. He took my hand and I started to tell him how sad I was about everything, but he came over and sat next to me, holding my hand the entire time, and I ended up instead telling him that I'd had a hard time with my first doctor (to which he diplomatically said "not everyone gets a good fit with every doctor") and I was so grateful that he made an exception to his no new patients status and took me on, and that I appreciated how he never tried to push me to do treatments that I wasn't interested in. I had a hard time keeping myself from crying, honestly, and I think he got a little misty; I imagine that all of his active patients are pulling a lot of emotions out of him right now.

It's just so disgraceful. They're pushing an experienced, dedicated blood cancer specialist into early retirement and forcing people who are in a really bad situation as it is (you know, because they're busy fighting cancer) to go out and find new doctors, and none of us know if we're going to get a doc as kind and dedicated as Dr. Li. We don't know anything.

The infusion nurse I had that day told me the funny thing is, she came to the Polyclinic because she really wanted to stay in oncology and she was having to make some life choices, but she had been at the Swedish Cancer Center's infusion department before that. She told me that a lot of the infusion nurses who've gone somewhere else since Optum took over are actually at the Swedish center, so I will have some familiar faces at my next treatment. She assured me that everyone there is great. I got the feeling she's thinking about going back--her interest is in oncology treatment, so even though there are still a lot of patients at the Polyclinic, losing Dr. Li's patients will mean a really different make-up. She said to come say hi when I'm in the building, and it's funny, I have multiple appointments coming up but I have to really think about if I want to continue going there. I've gone to that clinic since I was in my early 20s.

I won't know anything till next Friday though; that's when I have my appointment with the ARNP in the hematology/oncology department. I'm so nervous: I'm so afraid that they won't continue to give me some of the prescriptions, like lorazepam, that Dr. Li's office was like "no problem, here you go." Every other provider I know has been weird about prescribing benzos, and like, I get it, they're particularly addictive, or prescribing stuff like lomotil (extra strength immodium, basically) because it has a small amount of opioids in it, and I just am dreading trying to explain myself and beg for some things that have been ultra helpful to me since this whole thing started. I don't even want to think about if I have to ask for an opioid painkiller.

But I'm probably borrowing trouble. I think it hasn't helped that it's been one thing after another for me financially; every time I get ahead, something comes up and I have to spend a thousand here or three thousand there on something falling apart in my house. And I've been wildly overscheduled; I have 15 appointments in a span of less than three weeks, plus a bunch of things like replacing my garage door opener, replacing my huge picture window, etc. I was so thrilled today because I had literally nothing on my schedule and could paint my toenails.

Hazel continues to be a delight, though. She is still being really fussy about food though, which is hard since I'm trying to put her on this no-chicken diet. She is one of those cats that gets the zoomies after they poop, which has always mystified me. And sometimes it's not great, like late last night when she had a little bit of soft stools at the end of her poo and so brought it in on her butt and got it on my sheets and my leg while she zoomied around on the bed, which took me quite a while to deal with (also tracked it in the house). I worry about the fact that this is a regular thing, and why it's happening, and don't know if it's related to the stomatitis or possibly some other kind of internal problem. She's such a lovebug though. I got very mad I admit, but fortunately it didn't soak through to the big deep mattress pad, and she fought tooth and nail while I tried to clean up her butt, but once that was over, she was very cuddly. Cats, man.

( Just a bunch of pics of my cat )

It's been three weeks now that I've had new kitty and things seem to be going very well. I did have embarrassingly bad stuff with the ferry on the way over, less said about that the better, but I did make it down to Gig Harbor and the instant I met her, I was in love. She had been sitting in the foster person's window well, and as soon as the door opened, she came running to meet me, and loves to head-butt and rub her face on yours. She's such a lovebug that it's bananas: she just wants to be next to you or on you or rubbing against you at all times.

So it was no question that she was coming home with me. The person who runs the group and the foster coordinator had said something funny to me--"I'll go get her from the prison and we should be back in plenty of time"-- and I thought maybe that was their inside joke about a shelter with cages or something. But as I was driving down, I went past a sign that said "Women's Correctional Facility Purdy" and multiple signs saying "Do not pick up hitchhikers." I still didn't quite put two and two together but at the foster's house, she mentioned the prison again, and at my confusion, she finally said "Oh, did she not tell you about the prison program?" Apparently this rescue group has connections with one of those prison programs where they train dogs (most commonly) or work with cats to make them adoptable (in this case, they work with feral kittens and feral adults who show interest in being with humans, as well as other cats that are going to be adopted).

The first time I saw one of these programs was on Pitbulls and Parolees, and I thought it was so cool--the inmates learn really valuable skills that can translate to the post-prison world, and they get to take care of another being that depends on them. Most of these programs have waiting lists, because everyone wants to be part of them. The inmate who cared for Hazel (what I have named her) gave me a great list of things she likes, her behaviors, etc. I've always thought these programs are so cool and I've been joking that Hazel was in prison before she came here, but it's the first time I've had direct experience.

She settled in really fast. She's just really even tempered, and she loooves to chase her tail, anywhere, any time. (She even chased her tail inside a paper bag that I was putting clothing to donate to the food bank's clothes line and fortunately didn't destroy the clothes, but did destroy the paper bag.) She desperately wants to go outside, so I have to figure out some kind of catio situation--she escaped the other day and immediately beelined under the deck, so this needs to be addressed. But she was a perfect angel on the drive home, not even making a peep on the road or on the ferry, which is loud and stinky.

She has the tiniest, sweetest meow, and dainty little feet like Olive's, but they are deadly when she puts them on like my femoral artery and it reminds me a lot of my dear miss Ollie. At night, she wants to be so right up on my head that she does this Alien face-hugger thing and it's this horrible battle of wills because I cannot breathe but she just tries over and over and I have to keep pushing her away. I do love her, but she has definite opinions. She is a bit of a chonk, but I think I can get her weight down a little. And she had all but her bottom canine teeth removed because of dental disease, but she can still bite, as my nose can attest. Her finickiness with food is slightly annoying, though.

( Pics of Hazel )

Yikes, can someone tell me how the hell to make those pictures normal size??

In other news, I had chemo last week and Dr. Li came in with "big news": the fuckers who bought the Polyclinic, where I have been going my whole adult life and which had a great reputation around the area for like 80 years, are shutting down his department. So no more hematology oncology. So he has two months to find placements for all his hundreds of patients, and there are limited spots where those of us in active treatment can really find this type of care. It's not that you can't go to a general oncologist, but they don't know the ins and outs of this very weird rare cancer, and blood cancers have their own special needs. I really don't want to go to Fred Hutch, despite it being a premier cancer center, for various reasons, so he's going to try to send me to the system I had radiation at and still see a doctor as well as a physical therapist at, but I don't know how long they're going to maintain their identity, since they "merged" with a large Catholic hospital system a few years back (I have very strong feelings about women's health at Catholic hospitals and am really angry that multiple Catholic systems are now running most of the hospitals here). I have no idea what to expect, if I'll get another horrible oncologist like the one I had at the beginning, or what. I'm filled with anxiety.

Because he's a great doc, though, he was careful to go through the calendar and my treatment schedule to make sure my prescription for pomalyst, the thalidomide analog that basically keeps me alive, will get phoned in before shuttering the office so my treatment isn't interrupted (though I have no idea how this whole thing will work and how soon I would be able to see my new doctor). So as of July 31, he's in early retirement (as is his great receptionist), and I will have to get used to a new normal somewhere else that I know nothing about.

Man, I'm so glad i have a cat with all this happening. I would hate to not have something to snuggle (her fur is SO SOFT). I still miss Blues like mad, and I still cry a lot about him, but it helps so much to be able to kiss a kitty head.

It's been quite a while since I updated; it's kind of embarrassing how much I've fallen down on the job of posting. I had all these thoughts about The Pitt (I feel like I am watching/fanning a different show than anyone else and I'm having a hard time wanting to discuss it with anyone because I feel so weird and out of step; basically I love a lot of the characters or events others seem to hate and I feel a lot like Abed in Community: I guess I just like liking stuff) but then things kind of took a turn anyway.

My best friend and little buddy, Blues, seemed to take a sudden turn for the worse last weekend, and by Monday I was worried enough that I started calling the home euthanasia vets that friends had used. We made an appointment for Wednesday morning, but I wasn't sure he would last that long. I spent the next two days just trying to do anything that would make him happy or comfortable, as he was clearly having a hard time. He mostly wanted to be in the sun on the deck, as we were blessed with quite a few days in a row with sunshine, which is rare at this time of year in Seattle. Then I tried to find long things to watch on TV where I wouldn't want to get up and move around so he could sleep on my lap for as long as possible. Aliens director's cut ftw.

He got quite perky on Wednesday morning and yowled till I let him out--in the pouring rain, shaking my head forever at him and his obsession with being on or under his beloved deck--and then the vet came. I had a lot of doubts that I was doing the right thing because he'd been so much livelier, but she pointed out some pain signs and other things (and he was still really wobbly too) and I decided to go ahead. I honestly think he was gone with the sedative before the pentobarbitol even came along.

The house is so empty. I talked to him all day long, we had all these weird little rituals and I picked him up and smooched him dozens of times a day, and at night he was always on my left side and now when I put my hand down there, I have no kitty to pet or tummy to rub. I can't stand not being able to kiss a kitty head. He loved endless tummy rubs and toebean rubs--he was not one of those cats who ask you to scritch their tummy and then try to rip your face off after one minute; you could literally never stop scratching his belly and he would be fine with it. He hated being brushed, but you could play with his feet, his tail, his ears, his nose, and the scritches, and he was fine. Every time I get up, it's just so... There's no kitty greeting me and demanding food. Or winding through my legs and tripping me and nearly killing me. He was sometimes a very challenging cat, as anyone who's been on my friends list probably read over the years (the worst was the bite that almost put me in the hospital when I also had an allergic reaction to the antibiotic), but the good far outweighed the bad.

I don't know what I want to do. I've only lived a few years of my life without a pet. But I have no idea how long I'll be doing okay with my treatment and I'm not sure I'm feeling like looking or fostering anyway right now. It's so lonely, and he was all I had left. He was my sweetheart.

Escapade was much fun this year, though as with last year, stupid cancer fatigue put a damper on a lot of things. The best panels were the one for The Pitt and Murderbot, though I would have enjoyed the Murderbot panel more if a) it hadn't been at nine a.m. on Saturday morning and b) hadn't been dominated by one really obnoxious person. The moderator did a yeoman's job trying to rein her in (seriously, I really admired her skills at hardassery), but I had really hoped to talk about Gurathin in the show and the final episode, how SecUnit's memories might have changed him, etc., but that didn't really happen. And when I started talking about him, in typical fannish fashion, someone immediately countered and diminished my comment with how he wasn't what they thought he should be from the books and yadda yadda, so I never really got to make my point. Maybe next year?

But it was good to see people, even if I didn't get all the time I wanted to glom on some folks (par_avion, I'm lookin' at you). Still, there were a few wonderful surprises where some folks I adore and haven't seen in years came to the con, because their fannish brains had been kickstarted by Heated Rivalry. I am so not into that show but the fact that it brought them back out into fandom makes me feel more warmly towards it.

I woke up Sunday morning to news that LAX was in chaos because the Nazis in the government (and I use that term loosely) had decided to shut down TSA precheck and global entry, but after a while that got walked back and by the time I got to the airport, things had settled down a bit and it was fairly quiet. Then the flights started getting canceled by the East Coast blizzard (poor par, she was stuck at the hotel till Wednesday night), and the Mexico flights were stopping because it seemed like half of Mexico was on fire, and it made for a really surreal experience. And now today I woke up to the news about Iran and I just...I really often wish that this fucking cancer would just take me out. This world is just so fucking horrible, and I feel so utterly helpless to do even the tiniest thing about it.

I mean, I have signed up for Fandom Trumps Hate (fth2026offerings) (god i hate that fucker so much that i can't even stand to use a perfectly good verb because it's saying his name), but if I get even a bid over my $10 minimum, I'll be shocked. I've done auctions before, but I don't feel like I make much of a contribution, and I know throwing money at some of these horrors are at least some small way of helping, but I'm just not someone who'll generate that kind of money and I can't make many donations of my own.

Still, I'll hope that maybe a friend will feel sorry for me and buy me ;-D . But I have to admit, the basics of this auction confuse me--listings are on DW here, but a lot takes place on Tumblr, and I'm confused about how to publicize my listing. I was able to reblog the auction roundup listing for The Pitt today, but I don't know how one goes about promoting their own listing. Has anyone done FTH before and would be willing to give me some advice? There's only a couple days for browsing, so I would love to see if I could at least generate some attention if someone wants a fic for Marvel, The Pitt, or Fast Color (hah). I feel like in the past, I've seen people's contributor listings on tumblr, but I just don't know how that goes. Ugh, I'm so out of touch.

I broke my toe on my left foot *again* this morning. My third and fourth toes are so fucked up now. I know there's not much to do about it but tape them and take pain relievers, but jesus your toes really make a difference in walking. And I'm seeing a new sports medicine doc about my fucked-up knee, so now we'll have to see how it might affect my walking even more (I have an MRI this week). So much excitement, but as I said to a friend, at least it's not about the cancer, lol. I'm such a fucking klutz. I think I should probably get some of that bubble wrap with the really big bubbles, and put it around the legs of my bed--it won't solve everything, but those legs have definitely contributed to a few of the breaks. This time, I heard a little snap sound!

My house is redolent of anise and molasses and sugar and all the good spices from baking cookies all day. I have this ancient recipe from my mom's side of the family for these anise cookies that almost no one likes, and I used to make them with Dad all the time but I find it intimidating at the best of times, and these days aren't exactly the best. But I had to type it up a few years ago for someone on metafilter, and so I decided to try my hand at them on my own with a little help from mlyn, and while it didn't go great, it also wasn't a total disaster, so I figured I'd try again this year because I've missed them. There's just really nothing else out there like them, and much as I like pfefferneuse, it's not nearly close enough, though that's really the only thing in the spice/uncommon-in-America flavor profile cookie I know of. Also since I never really know if I'm going to be around in a year, I wanted to enjoy them while I could.

Back a few years ago when I made them, I asked musesfool, baker extraordinaire, for some advice on the recipe, because baking is just a mystery to me and I'm quite bad at it. She had some really good advice, but did I go look at it to refresh my memory before I began starting on the dough? No, I did not. So I made a lot of mistakes. Dad and I found it was best to let the dough sit in the fridge overnight, and the baked cookies are better when they sit for a day or two before icing, so it's kind of like a three-day extravaganza, and with my fatigue issues, I also have to constantly sit down. I am just fucking exhausted now and I still have more to do!

It makes so many cookies (and that was after my dad cut the recipe down three times!) that you're just baking and baking and baking. I had to shut the oven off and go sit for a while, in between big batches. But now they are baked and I will try to ice them all tomorrow, or at least as many as I can handle, so I can share them with the only people who wouldn't hate them. They don't taste terrible for all that I fucked up, but I can really tell I messed up mixing the early ingredients, and wish I'd read the instructions and musesfool's advice before I started. What a dumbass. Also, it's really a lie that turbinado sugar or succanat can substitute for white sugar. I didn't want to go out just to get sugar, which I thought I had enough of, but it does not turn out the same without white sugar and they are liars.

I bought myself some stuff to make a little Christmas dinner for one, but my stomach was roiling today for most of the day, and ended up just eating a bagel and some of the cookies that caught and were too burned to give away to anyone.

Now that I am so exhausted and the house smells so good, I think I'm going to head to bed early--I stayed up too late last night anyway, because it's my tradition to always watch It's a Wonderful Life on Christmas Eve and then I was poking around in the Yuletide archive for far too long. I was so shocked that it opened in the middle of the day yesterday! I didn't see a whole lot that looked intriguing, since I'm so out of the loop on fandoms these days, but there's definitely some stuff to read and I was really thrilled to see that Rose Lerner's book True Pretenses had a fic written for it this year! So I had to read that one immediately.

Anyway, I hope you had a great holiday if you celebrate, and a very nice Thursday if you don't, and I will respond to all your kind comments on my last post soon, I promise.

Every time I think of posting, I'm so overwhelmed by how shitty my life is right now and how nearly suicidal I feel that I can't do it. I'm just too depressing. It just seems like it's never-ending and I'm literally throwing money in the toilet and I feel so alone and hopeless. It's funny, I've never cried over the cancer diagnosis (diagnoses, I guess, since I'm being stalked by it), but I'm literally sitting here sobbing in front of my computer because of all the things. It's just. All the things.

A short list (it looks long, but it's the short list): I bought a new used laptop from Back Market when my old 2012 workhorse started having these weird spasms and would shut down. The new one, a 2020, I picked specifically because it had an intel processor instead of the new M1 chips, because I had a couple older programs that are crucial to my work that I wasn't sure would run on an M1. It went great until last month, when it wouldn't boot at all. I sent it back to the refurbisher and they said they couldn't repair it (a lie, I'm positive) so would send a replacement. Unforch, it wasn't what I ordered (it had an M1), so I had to mail it back via UPS last week (before turkey day).

Even more unfortunate, apparently UPS "never picked it up" from the mailing center, it's not in the system, so they won't give me a refund. Back Market forced me to do the refund option instead of sending me a replacement again since that's their policy. So assuming I would have a refund coming, I bought an entirely new 2020 just like the first one.

But now I guess I'm completely screwed out of over $700. Which I really don't have. Because I cannot prove a negative, and the mailing center dropoff of course doesn't give receipts for prelabeled packages. Which, even if I'd scheduled UPS to come to my house and pick it up, I wouldn't have a receipt either, if I didn't think to like wait by the door or something and make sure he scanned it. So there is nothing apparently I can do, because no one has this tracking number and I can't prove I sent it. Maybe it was stolen, maybe the UPS guy was a fuckup, who knows. All I know is Back Market won't give me my refund. They were like "bye, Felicia."

Even better, I cannot get the new 2020 laptop I had to buy to work, by installing from my backup so I can port over all my crucial programs. Mr. minim_calibre helped me with my first install problem when they came by on thanksgiving for min's annual drive-by pieing (she makes the best pumpkin pies, just like I would make them so now I don't have to make them myself!), and then again when I was having a completely new issue and he solved it, the day min and I went to see Wake Up Dead Man (which is cute! although the lack of a comma in the title is beyond irritating!). So those issues solved, I have attempted at this point to use migration assistant to get my old macbook air stuff over to the new one now probably 12 times, and it never works. The boxes are all checked, it says it's taking an hour or whatever to install from the backup, and nothing. Nothing in the restored files or any other folder they could exist in.

Apparently, you cannot use the apple genius bar for this type of thing. I was hoping to go there today but this isn't an issue they will assist with. They send you to articles, all of which I've read, and all of which tell you steps I have indeed taken. I did not have this problem with the laptop in April, which is making me even angrier. On top of losing over seven hundred bucks, I'll have to probably pay someone to help me be able to use this laptop, or maybe--I'm seriously considering this--send back the new one (with receipts this time so that means drive all the way to the nearest UPS store a half hour away and watch them while they scan it), then get a refund for it, and buy another one somewhere else. At this point I almost don't care about the programs and should just get an Mwhatever number they're on because getting a refurbished on is turning into such a nightmare. I keep thinking I might semi retire, but now I need money so I don't know. I just am not sure what to do.

Because on top of all this misery, my furnace was making dying noises and so I had to suddenly replace that. Furnaces are expensive, y'all. It was not a great time, but when they showed me the condition of the old furnace, I knew it had to go. It's beyond its lifespan, I knew that, but till now, it had been a pretty decent performer. The only good thing was that the new one has the same footprint as the old one, so they were able to put it right on top of the metal base, and use the existing pipe work for the gas and venting. It makes noises, but I was assured they were normal, though when it's blowing the air, it's quieter than the old one.

But of course, nothing ever goes right for me (seriously, this has been a longstanding joke with my friends, that I'm a walking Murphy's Law and whenever something can go wrong, it will, when it involves me), they charged me the full amount of over 8k on top of the 50 percent deposit I'd already given them, and when I called they were like "oh no! we'll refund it of course" but it's going to take 5-10 business days. I have to pay interest on that, since I put it on my credit card because I wanted to get the points, figuring I'd just move money over right away from my line of credit. It stings, since I will be paying for the roof for a while, and now this on top of everything...just so not what I needed. Financially, this has been a catastrophic year.

All my hopes of getting a new car (I love my Beetle, I do, but she's 20 years old now and there are parts of her that are literally falling apart and sometimes can't be replaced) have vanished now. I don't know what to do about the new laptop yet, I'm just sick and sad and hopeless. I'm taking a new drug because I guess my thyroid is hypo now?? which everyone is like, could just be normal happenstance, could be related to chemo, shrug, but I'm not super fond of some of the side effects. I'm supposed to talk with her about it at end of December after I've been on it for two months. But it sounds like one more drug I'll be on for life, however long that is.

I've been trying to not make this horrible list longer, but I may have to have a root canal, but won't be able to do it for quite a while despite tooth pain (still have to get to the dentist but ya know, funds) because one of the chemo drugs I get infusions of has a major side effect called necrosis of the jaw. Like. It's horrifying. If they do dental work that goes into your jaw bones, zometa can cause the jaw to become necrotic (dead) and your teeth come out, etc. See? Horrifying. Someone in my support group lost a huge section of his jaw and all his teeth to it, and had to have everything rebuilt. They say that they now know a lot more than they did years ago, so if you stop the infusions for 3 to 4 months or something, and don't have them for a month or so afterward, it should be okay. But I'm not sanguine about my chances.

Anyways. I'm sorry for so much doom and gloom. I did have a lovely birthday, so there was that! It was an exceptionally rare sunny day birthday--I can count on one hand the number of times it's been sunny on my birthday so it was extra nice because I treated myself to a mani-pedi and was afraid I'd be out walking in flip-flops in bare feet in pouring rain. (Tho as it was, I stepped off the curb and my foot was immediately covered by mushy leaves and cold water, so ha ha, it happened anyway.) Then my friend Keith and I went out to a pricey seafood place I really wish I went to more often (should fix that), here in West Seattle, and they do all this nice stuff for your birthday including giving you the really good tables with the spectacular views across Elliott Bay to downtown Seattle. Their special that night was lobster, and I am nuts for lobster, so perfect timing.

I think I might try to find somewhere in the budget (ha ha ha ha) to get a mani-pedi more often. One of my meds has ruined my hands and feet, my skin is like slick paper and the edges of the nails peel away all the time. Not necessarily for polish, but just to have someone help me maintain them, because it's hard on me at this point, especially my feet. We'll see, I guess.

Frankenstein made me sick! Not because of the gore or anything, but for the first time in six years, I caught a freaking cold. I mean I knew it was a matter of time before I picked up covid or a cold or the flu if I was insisting on going to the movies, because I cannot go to a theatre and not eat popcorn. It's simply not possible. So I end up unmasked for most of the running time. But I had forgotten how terrible a cold can be, and it's lingering and lingering for me (yes, I've tested many times, and while I know that home tests show false negatives all the time, I'm pretty sure the tests are right and it's not covid). I'm so sick of the coughing and snot.

All that on top of surgery on my back for melanoma (a word I've dreaded my whole life, what is it with me and cancers starting with M?) in situ. Which isn't as bad as it could be, but is still fairly bad and scary, and the biopsy site on my forearm is "something we have to watch" and got infected, so that was fun. I have to go in to the dermatologist tomorrow before chemo because I have a "spitting suture" on the back. But otherwise, she said the surgery margins were good and they got all of it, so I just have to cross my fingers that the spot on my forearm doesn't get worse. Cancer just stalks me.

Anyway. I thought I'd try to do that alphabetical list of fics that's been going around as a distraction. I just picked things mostly at random, not for any real reason, I guess. (And following the rule that A and The don't count as first letters.) I have learned through this that I have an inordinate amount of stories starting with I and L and W. I should work on that.

A: And the Whirlwind (Logan, Laura)
B: Better Left Unsaid (Buffy, Spike/Buffy)
C: Cellies (MCU, Captain America, Thor, Bucky & Loki)
D: Dipping Toward the Light (Sunshine (2007), Mace/Robert Capa)
E: Every Picture Tells a Story (Captain America, Steve/Bucky)
F: Five Cakes Marcus Thought Were Bombs and One He Knew Was Fire (The Bear, Marcus)
G: The Gift of Forgetfulness (Pacific Rim, Herc Hansen/Stacker Pentecost)
H: Heliotrope (Buffy, Spike/Buffy)
I: I can't remember how this started (but I can tell you exactly how it ends) (Captain America, Steve/Bucky)
J: Just Passing Through (Schitt's Creek, Captain America, Bucky Barnes, David/Patrick)
K: Knight-Errant (The Expanse, Amos Burton/Chrisjen Avasarala)
L: lucida/ obscura (Captain America, Steve/Bucky)
M: The Moon Cannot Be Stolen (Life (tv series), Charlie Crews & Ted Earley)
N: Not My Cross to Bear (The X-Files, Skinner/Scully)
O: On Beds of Sorrow (The Fast & the Furious, Dom/Brian)
P: The Perfume of Kismet (Buffy, Spike/Buffy)
Q: nothing!
R: Reverie (Captain America, Black Panther, Steve/Bucky) OMG I'm almost finished finally
S: The Sun Was the First Star We Knew (Sunshine (2007), Mace/Robert Capa)
T: There Must Be a Joke In Here Somewhere (The Middleman, Captain America, Wendy Watson & Bucky Barnes)
U: Urban Legend (Captain America, Steve Rogers)
V: The Valorous Vampire (Buffy, Angel & Buffy & Spike)
W: Welcome to the Party, Pal (Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Captain America, Steve Rogers & Jake Peralta)
X: x=y (The X-Files, Mulder/Scully)
Y: You Can Have the Town, Why Don't You Take It? (What's Your Number? Ally Darling/Colin Shea)
Z: nothing!

WorldCon was fun! A lot of the things I was stressed about were things that turned out to be totally okay, and I think the con comm and the venue both did a great job of setting things up for people with disabilities, although I do want to send some feedback about a couple things if I can figure out where. I definitely overextended myself in terms of trying to make it to panels and events and meet up with friends, considering I'd limited my attendance to just Friday and Saturday. But I got to meet up with Caroline Stevermer and a very old friend of mine named Tim, as well as mecurtin and seekingferret and of course wickedwords, and mizmak ventured over the mountains to meet up with Caroline, which meant we also got to spend time with her (not at the con), so it was like having some of the Media Cannibals gang back together. And I ran into kormantic while she was minding a table in the dealers' room.

Of course, there's never enough time to really spend with people at a convention, and WorldCon is ginormous so it seems even harder to get together with them (probably easier if you're staying in one of the hotels). I was intending to go to dinner with mecurtin, but somehow, standing in line at the restaurant, this overwhelming fatigue came over me (more than my usual incredible fatigue) and I ended up having to bug out. (I'll spare you my Lyft nightmare story but suffice to say there was definitely some time there where I thought it's a really good thing I don't carry deadly weapons on me.) Fortunately, she was generous enough to come over to my part of town to have lunch with me Tuesday, which was awesome.

My biggest problem was that I was constantly overheating because of my chemo drugs, which make me insanely sensitive to heat, and so I was always ducking into the gender neutral restrooms to mop at all the sweat drenching me. What an unbelievable drag on your fun that is, to just have water dripping down you and being damp all the time (moist, the most hated word), it's just so fucking awful. I did find myself, in all the panels about writing and such, kind of thinking more about the final chapter of my Bucky and Steve in a virtual world WIP, and I think I'm at a point where I can really tackle it finally. (Of course, as I've said previously, every time I'm ready to try to write, I manifest work, and sure enough...I manifested a proofread that arrived today. Clearly I should not be allowed to possess this power, and I would love it if someone else would harness the power instead.)

The new Summit convention center building is light years better than the original convention center, which was built in the late '70s/early '80s. We haven't had any real rain for months here, so of course it rained hard on Friday, but at least most people weren't given only rain as their Seattle experience, since it cleared up by Friday night. I would have loved to attend the masquerade, as that's my favorite event, Friday night, but I watched it streaming and it's just...not the same, you know? It was fine, but it just doesn't compare to being able to really see the cosplayers on stage and get the full range of what they're doing. I've heard there's some whining about the Hugos, as usual, but I didn't watch that.

Highlights were definitely hearing marthawells reading from Queen Demon and the (May 2026) new Murderbot Diaries book Platform Decay, as well as her Q&As, and a really cool panel on queer representation in SF that included Matt Baume, whose videos I watch a lot where he discusses the history of queer people in TV and movies. There was also a neat panel on dystopian fiction that looked at how in the global south, it's not future fiction, it's been part of their lives for a long time, which unfortunately I couldn't stay for the whole thing for because I was sweating so bad and the room was packed and just...ugh. But what I did hear was great.

I also literally ran into Martha Wells in the art show--I totally thought she'd be surrounded by a phalanx of security or something, so I was all awkward and stupid and just like completely blanked-out on what to say and I'm sure I came across as a total moron. But I knew going in I wouldn't be able to handle anything like a book signing line, so I never expected to be able to just say a quick hello. (I mean, yes, it's a con full of world-class nerds, but still. There's awkward and then there's awkward.) And I kept running across a couple of authors I sort of vaguely knew from my days of going to Norwescon more often, and it almost got to be funny, just kind of waving at each other but not really saying anything, over and over.

I only had a couple of interactions with people who were kind of crappy and a little ableist; and I even was able to make the trek to the Taco del Mar over at the old Convention Center, where I used to get lunch every week back when I worked down there. I miss that place so much and we don't have any of their shops near me anymore, so I revved myself up and hiked over there on Friday, and on Saturday went to Starbucks, because the in-building options weren't great for me. I wish I could have worked things so I had more time to have meals with folks and chat, but at least I know that next time, if I can go again, I have to allow for more time for everything. The art show was pretty cool and I found an artist I really want to buy something from.

All in all, my first WorldCon was a success, and I'm seriously thinking about trying to talk my BFF into going to next year's if I'm able and the cancer isn't too bad. I sincerely doubt after Anaheim, the con is coming back to the US for a good long while, not with so many people afraid to cross our borders.

Ugh, there's nothing like having to get a new roof on your house. Just the whole thing: the heinous cost, especially at a time when tariff bullshit/supply chain/tanking economy makes that 100 percent more devastating, the having to get multiple bids, then the having to tell people you went with someone else when they're awesome too...it's like something specially designed to make me miserable. I ended up getting bids from some great roofers, and it came down to two and it was so hard to make a decision, they were within a few hundred dollars of each other and they both had 4-star ratings everywhere and lots of good references. But I'm such a coward, the part where you have to tell the one company that you went with the other one is just excruciating omg.

Anyways, in about a month to six weeks, I'll be getting a new roof on the house. Poor Blues will be a wreck, but I don't know where I can really take him so he doesn't have to deal with the noise. I didn't have him when I did the kitchen remodel/addition, and Olive was the chillest cat you could ever have and she was fine with the construction (she literally slept through jackhammering my old concrete back stairs out), but my little sick, decrepit old man Blues will NOT do well in this situation. Home ownership sucks sometimes, so much.

I've been doing small things sporadically here and there--a tiny bit of writing, a bit of reading, lots of watching things. It doesn't feel like I ever accomplish much of anything; some days, the side effects are just awful enough that I don't really have the wherewithal to get much done. I'm trying to do accountability buddies with belmanoir to force myself to walk at least a few days a week, but if I'm having a lot of side effects, even that can be hard to make myself to do.

I *have* been watching things on TV, though--I signed up for a couple months of Disney and Max so I could watch a couple shows there, even though I couldn't really afford it. But the most important one to me was Andor, and so I can't regret spending the money.

Andor season 2 was just...wow. Holy crap. SO FUCKING GOOD. I mean, I can always find things to quibble with or critique, but when something is that amazing, it's just easy to handwave the details. What an incredible series, what an incredible season, what an incredible showcase for good writing and real production values instead of plastic manufactured crap filmed in that giant egg thing they call the volume. The costumes, the sets, the acting, it's all astounding and adult in the best way. I want to talk more at length about it, but I'm still digesting it all, and I need to sit down and rewatch it again, really take it in now that I know where it's going.

While I had HBO Max (or just max or whatever the fuck it's called), I figured I'd try The Pitt, even though I swore off hospital/medical shows a long time ago (I think anyone who knows my history, especially with regards to my sister's death, knows why). But I couldn't escape it on tumblr, and so somehow ended up deciding to give it a whirl, and...well, it is definitely as good as most people say. I do hate the medical show thing where everything has to be ramped up to 11, like, regular medicine in an emergency setting isn't dramatic enough, no, we have to have a mass casualty event. Okay.

I liked most of the characters, and while I've never cared about Noah Wyle, I will say that as Dr. Robby, he was much more appealing to me: I simply can't resist the broken, damaged, compassionate, competent guy who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, fuck my life. And also, *of course* I fall for the piping hot mess of a dude that is Langdon--he has a total WWII Bucky thing going on with his looks (tell me he couldn't be Bucky's double in First Avenger), so it just figures. I *had* to go for the guy with Big Problems who's a little bit of an asshole underneath the really good doctor veneer. I absolutely loathe Santos, every minute with her was torture, and I couldn't stand Javadi, either, with her perpetually wide eyes and grimaced mouth. They are both awful. Lest this sound like I just hate women characters, everyone else I loved, especially Mohan and McKay and Collins and OMG Dana. I adore Dana, I am really hoping she's coming back. And Dr. Ellis, I think was her name? at the end there, please tell me she's going to be front and center next season. It's funny, too, that I despised Shawn Hatosy after Southland, like, he was just the *worst* character ever and so obnoxious that it seemed like it had to be because of the actor, so color me shocked that I kinda...love him? on this show as Abbot. Very weird.

After Andor, I went over to Netflix to find something mindless and soft to watch, and checked out Mike Shur's latest show with Ted Danson, A Man on the Inside. It was very cute, but I couldn't get over the fact that this retirement center, which was very much like my dad's luxurious retirement center (in that it had the same apartment-->assisted living/memory care-->nursing facility progression structure), had only 100 residents and all those incredible amenities. Like, there is just no way to run something that incredible (it made my dad's place look like a dump) with so few residents, especially in the middle of downtown San Francisco. It would cost like $10,000 a week. It's a charming show, but I just could not stop thinking about the financial structure the whole time I watched. But if you're looking for something soft and short, it's a good show, especially if you enjoyed The Good Place.

And as so many people are, I'm enjoying the hell out of Murderbot. I really side-eyed the casting of ASkars as SecUnit, but I have to say, his inherent weirdness and goofiness is really turning out to be an asset. Some of the changes to the stories threw me a bit, but when I went back and rewatched the eps knowing what the changes were, it felt a little less jarring, and now the show really feels like it's hitting its stride. I am excited about Friday nights! I love the casting for Dr. Mensah and of course, the glimpses of Sanctuary Moon are just the fucking best. And anytime John Cho is on my TV is a good time.