Bad News

Leave it to my life to throw curveballs right when things were starting to look up.

Yesterday evening I found out the local hospital in my town is going out of business.

This may not seem like a big deal, but this sets off a chain of events that will affect the most crucial resources I have.

For one, my dad works there. He has for a long time. Him losing his job means he loses his health insurance, which means I will too.

He is looking for other jobs of course but the situation looks grim. He has an extensive criminal history from his younger, more alcoholic days. Most hospitals require background checks and throw troubled applicants into the trash.

The hospital in my town was understanding of his situation and allowed him to work his way up the ladder from materials management to nurse anesthetist and house supervisor.

But that was rare.

And now it’s gone. But not only that. My therapy appointments are gone too and any hope of me getting back on medicine. My mental health will suffer because I simply can’t afford copays and all the therapy I need in order to stay sane.

My new job provides insurance but it’s so expensive and completely shitty.

And since my dad owns my house and pays the mortgage with my rent money, the pressure to make payments on time is definitely increased with the threat of him losing his job.

All hopes of me attending college this year are essentially down the drain. I simply cannot afford to work part time and can barely afford to work regular full time hours.

With all this happening right before my eyes, and all the other bullshit stacked on top of that, everything seems futile and impossible.

I’m also sick. I over exerted myself at the gym doing bicep curls and damaged my right bicep muscle. I can’t fully extend my arm without crying and have to keep it curled up against my chest.

The condition is called rhabdomyolysis and if the muscle breaks down too much, it puts some bad shit in your blood and your kidneys start to fail. Your urine gets darker and I’m already seeing signs of that.

I was told to drink a ton of pedialyte and sports drinks (per my roommate who had gotten the same condition months earlier) but instead I drank my sorrows away with giant margaritas.

Today I’m hungover and dirty and sad. My arm feels worse and my head is pounding. I’m dehydrated and terrified.

I know what you’re thinking. Why would she drink when she’s clearly needing to heal and recover?

Good question. I’m not entirely sure either. For one, I like making jokes about my kidneys failing. And maybe my desire for death is fueling my neglect. I’ll get some goddamn Gatorade today, angrily and defeated.

In a sense, I am grateful for the change simply because it is change. The monotony is worse but financial insecurity is almost just as bad.

Let’s see how this pans out I guess. Let’s see if I can survive this bullshit.