Day 194: on the fly

Though the alarm went off this morning at 7am this morning, it became apparent that we weren't going to be able to make it to the La Jolla VA Medical Center by 8am for the all important CT scan. The scheduling for Radiology wasn't in until 10am; when Himself got a hold of them, they encouraged him to get there by 11:30, and they might be able to squeeze him in before his Port Access appointment at 1pm. I managed to get in my Tea and Morning Pages before breakfast and a quick shower, and then we were off.

When we got to Radiology, Himself asked if he could reschedule to later today. There did happen to be an opening - at midnight tonight. So guess where he's going in about an hour? Yup, back to La Jolla for the CT scan.

With time opening up, we had a serviceable brunch in the cafeteria: Himself had a breakfast sandwich, and I had soup (a creamy tomato bisque) and a salad. Then we went to his "regularly scheduled" appointments at 1pm (where he got some blood drawn for labs through his port), and 2pm to the Pain Clinic (where we went to see if we could get him re-authorized for a chiropractic referral). We learned that there was a yoga study going on to evaluate if yoga could help with lower back pain in veterans; if he qualifies, he could get paid to do yoga for a few weeks! We will definitely look into that further.

With traffic its usual hot mess, we managed to get home right after the usual dinner time, but not too late after. Once again, we checked the mailbox, and still didn't find what we were looking for: a little financial help from Himself's stepmother. He rang her up, and if we don't get anything in tomorrow's mail, she will stop payment on what she sent us and use Priority Mail to resend it. In the meantime, the generosity of friends has once again come through, and we have enough for gas and cat food...for now. (Thanks to Cancer Angels, an organization that helps Stage 4 cancer patients, we're good with people food...for now.)

I am feeling the Heaviness of Depression wanting to weigh me down, and insist that I am a permanent resident of ScarCity. Part of that comes from being tired, as it has been a long day. Part of it is a test of my pragmatism. I still feel like I'm moving forward, even though it also feels like snails are moving faster than I am.

Tomorrow is Himself's all important Oncology follow up, where we intend to hear the magic word Remission being spoken again, and then he'll be good for another three months. If we're not delayed too badly, I think a detour to the beach will be good for both of us. Fingers crossed in both cases.