I have been fighting a lung infection for about three or four months now. It seems like it started right after my mom died. Or maybe just before. My throat hurts and I lose my voice easily. when they close the "cuff," the balloon that inflates shutting off my trachea and forcing me to breathe through the stoma, I gag and choke like I'm being strangled, it hurts so bad. It shouldn't hurt. And they've been suctioning a lot of blood and clots out of my lungs. Oftentimes, I can feel the clot in my lungs, and I need to be lavaged (ie, have saline water squirted into my lungs) to break up the clots so they can be suctioned out. I've gone through two courses of anti-biotics, and the results are the same: I feel better for a few days after the antibiotics are done, and then the symptoms returns. My pulmonologist's assistant said the last culture they did on my sputum showed I have strep pneumonia.

Today, my doctor says he can't prescribe any more antibiotics for fear of creating "super bugs" so I just have to live with it. All he said is I have to get used to the fact that I'm vulnerable since I don't have an upper respiratory tract anymore, and things are going to colonize in my lungs. The bugs are the European colonists and I'm the Native waiting to get wiped out by their strange new bugs. I feel like this is the beginning of the end. I'm so tired.

We're catsitting for one of my caregivers while she's in the process of moving. The cat's name is pronounced like Yanni, you know, the new age pianist or whatever. My mother-in-law doesn't like that name, says it's not feminine enough, and persists in calling the cat Muffin or Muffy. I think this is presumptuous, to rename another person's cat, but also I like the cat's name. I pretend in my own head that the cat's name is Yoni, Sanskrit for the female genitalia, ie, pussy.

Wow, I can't believe how fast time slips away.

My mom died. Easter sucked. Mother's day is going to suck. Father's day is going to suck. My life really and truly sucks. But didn't suck hard enough to win Howard Stern's "World's Saddest Listener" contest which makes me even sadder.

Best part of RL is my pets. We still have Peaches the cocker spaniel and Orion the black slug cat. They are 14 and 13 years old respectively. I also have two orange kittens named Adam and Grant, after Adam Savage and Grant Imahara from Mythbusters. We had a Jamie for Jamie Hyneman, but he got squished in my MIL's recliner.

I also am still deeply involved in Second Life and wrestling. Not only have I been with the wrestling federation for 3 years, I've been the president for the last year.

I haven't been to Uwajimaya for over 3 years now. I miss it so much. But traveling with a trache isn't easy, my wheelchair is not suited to carry all the equipment, I need to buy a new one. In the meantime, I'm housebound except for doctor appts.

I spend most of my time on Facebook these days, if you want to follow me there and don't already: http://www.facebook.com/katheryn.saunders

Rereading my last entry, things didn't turn out as rosey as I'd hoped. We did fire the caregiver who was making me miserable, but I'm afraid one of the ones we hired to replace her is just as bad, if not worse. And I'm already getting the "give her time to learn" arguments. When she's worked 4 days, and every day is like starting over with a blank slate, how much time do I have to give her? Especially when we're talking about my safety and sense of well-being. If all she did was housekeeping, it'd be one thing, but we're talking about poking me with needles, administering meds, and shoving tubes into my bronchial passages to suction out goo. why do I have to argue with people when I feel the care I'm getting is substandard or downright bad?

And then there's mother-in-law. Because our financial situation is so dire, we ended up "hiring" her to be my nighttime caregiver, under the condition that Joel would do the work and she'd turn the paycheck over to him. But guess what! Joel got a job. It was only temp, 3 days, but in those 3 days MIL had to actually do some caregiver type work. And one of those days, the incompetent caregiver mentioned above was on duty. MIL hasn't taken an active role in my care in over a year, so it was the blind leading the stupid. Together they messsed up a bunch of my equipment, which Renee, my main caregiver and the person in my life I feel cares the most about my care, god bless her, had to fix the next day. By herself.

What about my case worker? When it came down to brass tacks, there was little she could actually do. She did send out Adult Protective Services, so I could file a report against my MIL. Turns out it was the second time the APS guy had been called out becsuse of her. The first time he was out, she butted in, did all the talking, so I had no idea why he was even here. So she needs to tread carefully or the state won't keep paying her to abuse and neglect, I mean, care for me.

My life seems really bleak right now, and for the life of me, I don't know how to fix it.

It's been a month since mother-in-law said she was moving out, and she is still HERE. I may need Herr Tanzer and brother to come throw her stuff on the lawn after all. What I really wish is that she and my mom would trade places. My mom move in and MIL take her apartment. My mom may have her annoying quirks, but she is no where near the hateful, vile, malicious psycho hose beast my MIL is. And MIL is on Facebook now so I have to post these rants here. >_<

BTW, are YOU on Facebook? Lemme know, I'd love to friend you.