* Shortly after I posted about how well Neuro and Transplant had gone, Hotter's transplant coordinator called me and let me know that his blood levels of his very most expensive medication were lower than they liked to see. So they're doubling the dose. BALLLLLS. I have no idea how that'll fit into our budget--NONE.
* This morning Bad Ear woke me at four a.m. hurting like a total bitch so I went in and got an early start at the office. Considering I couldn't get to sleep until midnight I'd planned to go in at seven as usual and make tomorrow and Friday early days as a little gift to myself, but we need every hour in next week's paycheck anyway.
* There was Drama At Work. STUPID drama. Drama so ridiculous that I am tempted to break the cardinal rule of blogging and talk about work in detail just so that you can all laugh because it is THAT FUNNY, but...huh. Look at that, up until just then I would have sworn I had lost every shred of my mind and yet I'm not going to share the drama. Sorry. Just trust me it was so ludicrous an example of Human Misbehavior that it should be a sitcom episode. During Sweeps Week.
* Totally unrelated to said drama, I absolutely humiliated myself in front of my boss today. I only THOUGHT I humiliated myself yesterday, y'all. See, today, I went into a one-on-one meeting with my boss, who is a Very Nice Man and asked me how I was today, and I had PLANNED FOR THIS and GIVEN MYSELF A PEPTALK and EVERYTHING. I had told myself that in my thrice-steroidal (inhaled, nasal, and pill-form, in addition to yesterday's shot in the arse) state, given how godawful Things are and the amount of pain I was in, it was Perfectly Acceptable and in fact A Good Idea to redirect conversation if asked how I was/what was wrong, since I probably couldn't pull of fine/nothing (yeahhhh I woke up with both eyes swollen almost shut due to my sinuses, and am sporting purple bags you could practically fit a credit card and keys in under each eye. I kind of look like I've been crying for the past two days, following being punched in the face, plus I have to blow my nose every couple of minutes). So when my boss asked me How I Was I tried for a reassuring smile and a breezy "let's not dwell on that, haha!" Unfortunately, Nice Boss was undeterred. "Well is everything okay? Talk to me," he urged, doggedly. "If I talk about it I will cry so really, please let's not," I said. And then burst into tears. Awesome. Nice Boss apologized and said we could reschedule, and beat a hasty retreat, and I sent a damage-controlling e-mail saying "what time is best for you, as long as you don't ask how I am I think I can maintain my composure. Sorry about that, a combination of bad news from yesterday's appointments and high-dose steroids for that ENT thing that made me miss a day the week before last have rendered me less capable than usual in that regard," and he said no apologies needed, and we met after lunch and it went fine and actually he was quite impressed with the work I've been doing. But still. Gah.
* Re: ENT stuff. Everyone and their sister-in-law's hairstylist's college roommate, as it turns out, knows somebody who knew someone who had THE SAME THING and DIED, and all crabbing on my part aside the people who care about me most were collectively urging me to Go See A Specialist, God Dammit, And Worry About Paying For It Later. And in my experience no matter how little you want to do something, if more than three of the people you love and trust the most are saying you simply must then generally they are right and it would behoove you to listen to them. So I called the ENT who did my tonsils, but I haven't seen him since 2008 so would be a new patient, and therefore a doctor had to call to make an appointment for me because he's the Grand Poobah of ENT Surgery at Local Teaching Hospital. I called my GP's office and told them I'd decided to go with their recommendation to see a specialist after all and damn the torpedoes, and gave them the relevant information, and they said they'd pass it on to my doctor. Then they called back and asked if it HAD to be The Grand Poobah, or would I be willing to see another doctor, and I said I'd follow my GP's recommendation but would PREFER The Grand Poobah. They called back and said they'd got me an appointment with some non-Grand-Poobah ENT on the thirtieth. I asked if my doctor was sure it was okay to wait that long, given that the guy yesterday made it sound like I was in some danger from this, and I only had enough steroids for a week anyway plus the situation was getting steadily worse and also could they please tell her I'd like some help with pain management, be that in the form of more steroids, an antibiotic anyway just for the hell of it, or pain medication of some kind. They called back and said they'd gotten me in with ANOTHER ENT Monday, and that I simply hadn't given the steroids enough time to work. I then went and had a little cry in the ladies' room because my goddamn ear hurt so much but I didn't want to bother the doctor's office again, and when I came out a very wise friend observed that she thought maybe my own neglect as a child had taught me to be okay with having my needs ignored to the point that I failed to advocate for myself when appropriate, and suggested I think of this in the context of What Would You Do If It Was One Of Your Children? Well I'd raise hell, I said, and not LET them ignore this! Go get 'em tiger, said my friend, and I called the doctor's office back and said look I hate to be a pest but would you please tell the doctor that the pain is really pretty unbearable and I am asking for her to come up with a plan for how to handle that until the steroids do their job. I then went and quickly humiliated myself in front of my boss, which freed me up to answer the phone when the doctor's office called BACK, and said...that the doctor had said that I needed to give the steroids at least another day. So I took an early lunch and went back to the ladies' room and quietly sobbed in a stall for a few minutes, and was honestly considering the emergency room because I was hurting so badly when...POP!
* Oh yeah. It ruptured. And drained all down my neck. I'm really glad that didn't happen in front of anyone. Bad Ear immediately became Quiet Ear, but the pain went from a high eight or possibly a nine on the much-vaunted pain scale down to a four at the most, and I think most of that is referred pain from my cheekbone. So I mopped my face off and my neck up and ate my peanut butter sandwich and got back to work, ignoring Dr. Anonymous's entreaties to Go To The God Damned ER Already.
* At the rescheduled meeting, Nice Boss gave me a tentative end date for my projects at PseudoCorp. Which...well. I really didn't have any reason to expect they'd hire me, but so many people have been so impressed with my work that I'd foolishly gotten my hopes up. God damn it. Don't anyone crap on Nice Boss, by the way; at least he was decent enough to give me a heads-up. That's more than I can say for pretty much ANYONE I've worked for in my time as a temp (except, oddly, Soulless Corporate Megalith) and I don't even think the client is supposed to do that, but I appreciate that he did. He even offered to be a reference for me. Still...
* I got home mere moments before some rednecks with a new-to-us second-hand refrigerator. And while "climb behind defunct appliances with a dustmop" is probably not what ANYONE meant by "relax and avoid dust," at least we have a refrigerator again. Of course, we don't really have much to put IN it and I have NO fucking idea how I'll feed us all for the next two weeks, but...well, I'm out of tears or else my tearducts are swollen shut at this point (distinctly possible given the state of my eyes at the moment) so whatever. No, we do not have renter's insurance. It lapsed two months ago due to nonpayment.
* All in all I'm trying to focus on the positive. I ought to have at least a FEW more paychecks, my pain level is manageable enough that I won't be tempted to take any forbidden NSAIDs (probably for the best as I have reason to believe I might be having ENT surgery in the not-too-distant future, and the ENT region is vascular as all HELL) and MAYBE I can avoid or at least put OFF said surgery since Quiet Ear went ahead and vented itself, and I don't even strictly speaking NEED to go to the ER since I have topical antibiotics for use in the inner ear at home already because two of my kids have tubes (Dr. Anon reluctantly got on-board with this plan given that I have access to the antibiotic drops, although she really doesn't like that putting them in hurt like an absolute motherfucker because that apparently indicates a largish tear in the eardrum...me, I'm just happy because I hear the brain itself lacks sensation so hey, the hole isn't THAT deep!). And the rest I'll worry about when I'm capable of crying again, I guess.
* I'm closing comments on this one like an absolute asshole. I know this sucks. I know it's not fair. But unless one of you is secretly Bill Gates there really ISN'T anything you can do that I would ask of you, and the more people are nice to me right now the more I feel like bawling and the more pressure builds up behind my eyes, and if anyone was an asshole today I think that might just break me. So.