4/24/25 in 2020s

Well, that explains why I only got one reaction on my post about the tumor discovery. I had the audience set to my Blogger audience, and right now, I only share links to my Tumblr blog with just one person. I switched it to “friends,” but it is what it is. Meaning, it doesn’t change the sadness of knowing she only has a few months—or less—to go. We’ve had dozens of rats, and she’s by far been the best. My top three favorites used to be Tinkerbell, Blondie, and Little Buddy, but now it’s Tinkerbell, Tinkerbella, and Blondie.

I don’t want to think too much about that right now, otherwise I’ll just start crying my eyes out again.

I slept surprisingly well for someone who is less than 9 hours away from getting a reprieve—or a death sentence of sorts—when it comes to whether or not I’m going to be able to get another CPAP. But the jury should have already deliberated, and Tom has his alarm set so he can be with me when the verdict is read. I’ll likely be too tired to update this journal at that time, but I may or may not do a quick post on Bluesky summarizing the appointment.

Clonazepam was part of why I slept better and as long as I wanted, but I’m going to take a little break from that for a while. Once I find out what’s going on, I’m either going to be quite relieved and feel better emotionally, which will help me sleep a little better until the CPAP arrives and I adapt to it, or my own days are going to be numbered, and it won’t matter.

I can’t stress it enough when I say I’m tired of trying to figure out and deal with health problems. I didn’t have any bad dreams, and I don’t have any bad vibes right now, so I’m hoping that’s a good sign.

I dreamed I had a young friend whom I accompanied to a dentist because she was terrified. I don’t know what procedure she was going to have done, but after the doctor numbed her gums, she wanted to leave. Knowing she was a mother, I told her, “Hey, you had a big cut made in your gut, and something this big”—I made the size of a baby with my hands—“was pulled from you, and you survived. So you can certainly survive this.”

Speaking of dreams, it’s kind of ironic how I recently had a dream about being strangled, only to find that the lump I swear I’ve felt on and off is real after all. Don’t worry—I’m sure it’s benign. Regardless, on and off throughout the last decade or so, I swear I’ve felt this lump-like sensation at the base of the left side of my throat. Like something’s there, but not inside my throat. Last night, I casually tilted my head back and gently massaged the area where the neck meets the chest just above the collarbones, and I could feel a slight protrusion on the left side. It didn’t feel like a lump, though. It wasn’t circular but almost long, like a thicker tendon or something. I read that it could be just muscle or tissue, and most lumps and nodules on the thyroid are benign. But it shows that it’s likely what I always thought it was, and it’s another thing Doc A likely got wrong.

She said she thought it was arthritis, and I wasn’t sure I agreed. But since she didn’t feel the need for an ultrasound and it wasn’t debilitating or painful in any way, I didn’t push it. It still isn’t debilitating or painful, but it’s a weird sensation at times and definitely more noticeable sometimes than others. I’ll mention it to Rhonda when I see her in June and see what she thinks. If it’s cancer, which I highly doubt, it’s usually pretty slow-growing.

Also, my 2014 ultrasound did show a small nodule on the left side, and before that, I remember telling Tom I had a feeling about something on that side.

Now for something infuriating and funny. At least to me, anyway. Should I go with infuriating first or funny? I guess I’ll go with infuriating.

It really pisses me off to see the kind of send-off the Pope got. But again, people are just too damn blind to see that this was not a good person. Just because he may have been the first Pope to say “Who am I to judge?” when it comes to gays and lesbians, you don’t turn around in the next breath and, when asked if you would perform gay marriages, say you don’t bless “sin.” Because then you are judging, and all in the name of an unproven identity that you’ve decided what it considers a sin.

I was glad to learn of his passing, and to me, it’s always good when misogynistic homophobics die because that’s one less asshole walking this Earth even if there will be plenty more to come. He didn’t deserve any sympathy, much less the huge celebration he got.

Really, wake the fuck up, people. Stop celebrating haters. And all you women out there—stop celebrating and voting for those who want to harm you and stifle your rights.

So, on to my funny news. That would be Julie across the street. She’s not directly across from us but close enough. In my feed, I saw a post she made saying that some people just can’t respect boundaries—or something to that effect. So I browsed the comments, and apparently somebody, who I guess lives here, has been told by her and Steve that they’re not welcome to park in their driveway and sit there whistling, even though they know they can’t stop him from driving by.

No names have been mentioned—at least not yet—but I couldn’t help but giggle to myself and think, “That’s your karma for letting your mutt annoy the fuck out of me for so many months after you first got it.” Can’t deny it’s been a lot quieter lately, though. Still, it was both funny and weird. I mean, who would do this???

Then that bitch—Debi—said something about them starving for attention. Sounds like someone may have dementia, but again, I don’t know who it is that’s supposedly doing this. I just know that if it were our driveway, they wouldn’t be whistling for very long.