June 18, 2012

Gathering Clouds

These clouds are the personal ones, which unfortunately are never far away. I sincerely regret having to do this yet another time (both for your sakes, and for mine), but since I have no other source of income, I don't have a choice if I wish to avoid (or at least postpone) very bad consequences.

I'll have to pay July's rent in less than two weeks; I only have about half of what I need. Then there are the usual additional barebone bills: food, internet, phone, etc. And now, I have three other concerns. The first is my beloved Cyrano, the big orange fellow who has graced my life since he fit in the palm of one hand. I'm pretty sure he's basically okay, but he'll be 14 in August. He should go to the vet ("Only Dr. Mike!," says Cyrano, referring to our wonderfully gentle and sweet caregiver), just to be checked over to be sure nothing requires attention. I can't afford it at the moment. And I suspect Cyrano may have a tooth problem or two, so that may need addressing. I certainly can't afford that.

In addition to my ongoing heart problems (for which I have no means whatsoever of obtaining treatment, now or ever, given the prohibitive costs involved), I myself have two new sources of pain at present. I'd prefer not to go into details; I try not to think about any of it at all, let alone dwell on what it might mean. What's the point? I can't do anything about what the problems may be in terms of curative or preventive treatment, so it's a pointless exercise in self-inflicted psychological pain (in addition to the physical pain). But I suspect that, some time fairly soon, I may need to visit a doctor to at least get some prescription(s) for strong painkillers. As far as then getting the painkillers -- well, I can't afford that either right now.

The last problem is one that looms in the future, but hopefully will not be actualized. I had a bad scare when I first got on the computer this morning: my anti-virus/general protection system alerted me repeatedly that my computer was "unprotected" against viruses, hacking, etc. I futzed around with the program for a while, and now it indicates that everything is fine, all protections in place and functioning. But I realized that, if my computer were to crash entirely for whatever reason, I might have no means of regaining access to the internet. Whatever might need to be done would most likely require money, and...

More generally, I'm in the situation facing more and more people these days. Any one emergency, if sufficiently dire, could bring everything to a complete halt. It's an awful way to live. That, too, is something I try to avoid focusing on. It's futile masochism, and nothing more. Nonetheless, I'm all too aware that it takes a terrible toll. Thank God for the cats; they keep me sane, and my heart open.

And I'm pleased with how the writing is going. I'm only about halfway through the current series, perhaps even less than that. As I explore these issues, I realize that more and more subjects and themes of concern to me are directly relevant and should be addressed. Some of these are topics I've dealt with before; some of them will be largely or entirely new.

So I'd like to continue with my efforts here, at least until Dr. Doom comes to visit. As always, I'm tremendously grateful for the generosity and support you continue to offer. I cannot thank you enough. And a special blessing on those of you who care so much.

P.S. "Could you mention that we'd also be able to get better snacks and some new toys?"

I laugh. "It's always about the snacks and toys, isn't it, Cyrano?" He looks at me blankly, and his eyes widen slightly in mild astonishment. He thinks the point is so obvious, and so obviously true, that it insults his intelligence to ask for further comment.

"Okay," I say. "Consider it mentioned. Oh, I ordered some of the turkey you love so much. It's coming with the groceries later this morning."

"What time is that?"

"About 11 or so."

"Excellent! Something to look forward to. An early lunch. Mmmm, turkey." (It's deli turkey, the only kind he'll eat. Not cheap. But he adores it. I order a pound of it at a time. I eat some of it, for it's mostly for Cyrano. It lasts barely a week. I've offered some to Sasha a number of times, but she is completely uninterested. Sasha insists on a rotating variety of "superior canned foods," as she describes them. She is so miraculously adorable and loving that she quite takes my breath away.)

Cyrano yawns. "I think I need to rest and gather my strength for the tasks later on. Lunch, play, chatting with Sasha, my lookout duties, dinner. Another full day."

He gets comfortable on his carpeted platform, and drifts off to sleep. He's already performed his morning inspection tasks, in addition to eating a good breakfast. No wonder he's tired.

In a few moments, Sasha will want her morning lap time. Lots of gentle ear and neck scratching, and purring. So I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me for a little while. Many thanks again.