Journal: 10/18/06

I have to keep reminding myself, it was the tortoise that beat the hare. Life is still mostly like that, along with other tweaks to my thinking.

My COPD?

I’ve been thinking about my recent diagnosis from Natividad hospital. I’m still mulling over the COPD verdict and am struck by the fact that I now have a medically accepted judgment of the same disease that Joann died from. Or, at least a variation thereof. Joann used to tell me that virtually everyone is dying of COPD in one form or another; hers was emphysema (from childhood pneumonia), complicated by anemia and heart disease—although it was the emphysema that killed her. For me, it is also emphysema (from smoking). Other issues that have disabled me—in the doctor’s opinion—have to do with my MS, neurological condition, lower and upper back conditions, and hypertension. Nevertheless, it feels a bit spooky to be lumped in the same class as Joann, who is no longer with us.

I suppose I’ll get used to it, I’m just not happy about it. From personal, in-your-face experience, I know that COPD is not reversible. On the other hand, I also know that living another twenty to forty years is not out of the question. It isn’t that I don’t accept it—my body tells me every time I take a breath that I’m in trouble—it’s the irony of the situation that makes it so bizarre.

General Assistance Is Granted

I received the letter today from Monterey Social Services granting me General Assistance. Coincidentally, the rejection letter from Social Security also came in the mail. I wonder how this will play out, given that General Assistance depends on doing manual labor, which I’m physically unable to do, or applying for some form of government support and being accepted to that. After all, I signed papers promising to repay the county when my SSA came through. Maybe I can develop another alternative in the near future.

Meanwhile, the monthly $133.00 will help with my medications. I have to get a glucose monitor and test strips so I can lay a baseline over a couple of weeks for the doctor, and there is my Tramadol and Advair inhaler. Small things, yes, but important in their own way.

Fifty-Cent Raise

The owners of the motel gave me a 50-cent raise today, starting at the beginning of this week. Usually, a raise from these people is meaningless, as everything I make here goes to rent. This time though, I get to keep the fifty cents an hour. Doesn’t sound like much, but compared to nothing a week, this $27.00 a week seems like a lot, and just at the right time. I’ve been getting a bit desperate.

It works out to about $110.00 a month, but that keeps me in bath soap, deodorant and other necessities of civilized life. Add to that the General Assistance and for the first time in months I don’t have to beg for loans from my friends that will not be repaid in the near future. I guess all the complaining I’ve been doing recently paid off, just a little.