I'm consumed by worries.
I dug out $4.25 in change, and I have to hope that that is enough to get us to the hospital and back home.
I have to pray the co-pay is low enough my bank balance still can pay it, or that it's big enough they will work with me and not expect instant payment (like the specialist who charges $150-760 per visit and who I am still trying to pay back from August appointments on) which we can't come up with.
I'm hoping that my cell phone service is not turned off yet- I'm waiting on more of my own doctor appointments to be scheduled.
I'm hoping I'll be able to find money or some way to keep our electricity on after Wed.
I'm hoping I'll have money to pay for Wash's medications this week.
I'm hoping that the $51.66 I have left on our SNAP (food stamps) will in fact be able to last another 9 days. No, sorry, 10 days.
Outside of that all consuming worry that the world I've tried so hard to keep going for Wash (at least until he dies) might come crashing down, we had a few good moments this weekend.
I trimmed the tree on Sat and hung lights and other decorations. Wash had a few episodes on Sat and was not really co-operative with anything I suggested, so Sunday I tried very very very hard to be super patient and just get him engaged with the world instead of sad in bed. We had a good day, I hope to write about it later.
I wish I could fucking just think about how to best care for my husband and give him the happiest days he has left, instead of just being worried worried worried about how I'm going to pay for him to live here, eat, have medication, have power....
Fighting cancer is so much harder when you have to fight poverty first.
Poverty is fought before his cancer.
How fucked up is that?
I just can't do it all.