Just a dark place
I remember sharing with firebunny during my last visit to PA, I think, that I thought humanity would die out through not reproducing, what with the Zika virus.
I still think it's possible that this virus is not something to overcome, but is really the earth's way of rejecting us as a species. Mosquito season might be over where I live (for now), but it's just starting in other places. Maybe the virus will mutate so that it doesn't just infect pregnant women, but any woman who will ever get pregnant and viable births will end in our lifetime. Sure, we could have test tube kids, but they won't be equipped with all the stuff they're exposed to in the womb and will probably die from their first cold or something awful like that.
I think I remember this because it's where I was before the shit hit the family fan, where my mind was in the fall. It's a dark thought and, at that time, one of the worst things I could think of -- possibly because I get bitten by mosquitos more than the average person. The election was also adding to the apocalyptic feel, as if the idea of red state/blue state civil war was on the horizon. Vague, end-of-world thoughts. Nothing I really thought would happen, even if it was plausible.
In a terribly selfish way, I wish I was still worrying about those bigger problems than the more personal ones I have now. It's been really hard, dealing with Aunt Eileen right now, trying to be there for her and feeling like I'm never doing it right. I keep trying to put myself in her place and try to be what she needs and it always feels like I'm fucking up. It doesn't help that she is hard to read right now because moods can turn within a conversation and I find myself bombarding her with information when she wants to escape or being escapist when she wants to focus on the cancer.
It's almost easier dealing with Uncle Mike because he's got that whole stoic, lawyery "cancer who?" thing going on. I just come over, clean something or cook something, and all's well enough for him.
I can't even say for sure that wouldn't work for her, really, since popping over to her house to do some laundry isn't an option from 3,000 miles away.
Things are also tense with her and Uncle Mike and there's nothing I hate more than when two people I love are at odds. My go-to method is to try to explain the other or to build them up to each other and it's exhausting.
Basically, he sent all this stuff (supplements, CBD products, etc...) and he's miffed that she's not appreciative enough. See, we're trying to figure out how she can be on a cannabis oil protocol in addition to her immunotherapy, but PA is in a state of catch-22, where she's eligible for now-legal medical cannabis, but there won't be any way to get it until 2018 at the earliest and that is time she is not guaranteed.
So he sent her a bunch of CBD products (right under the wire before CBD was made class 1 on January 13th -- and don't even get me started on what bullshit that is. I'm not into the "big pharma conspiracy" stuff, really, but why take a product made from cannabis that does NOT get people high,but does help with certain symptoms and restrict access just because it's made from weed. There's no psychoactive effects without the THC, so what the hell, DEA?).
Anyway, Uncle Mike sent her a variety of things, but she is convinced only the ones with a certain ratio of CBD/THC will work and might have worded it in a way that intimated these things are useless for her. So he feels as if she's being ungrateful for what he's trying to do and she feels that anything but the Rick Simpson oil is a waste of time. On the one hand, she is looking a gift horse in the mouth. On the other, he needs to understand that her situation and his are very different and she is just a little panicked right now. Yes, they are both late stage, but his 5-year chances are much better than hers, considering that his cancer has not spread to a major organ yet and hers started in her lung. But I think she should try incorporating the CBD into her regimen for the benefits it does give (anti-inflammatory, anti-anxiety etc...)
Then there's me, looking up any and everything I can until my head spins. For what it's worth, I do think the Rick Simpson Oil (his recipe, not the scammers putting his name on vials of what I can only surmise is their own piss) is worth a shot, considering what it's done for other cancer patients. I don't think it's a "cure," because that doesn't exist yet, but it has bought countless people time they otherwise might not have had and legit studies have shown it halting tumor growth. But there's no sustainable, safe, and legal way to get it to her in PA at this time. The easiest thing, if she is determined to try it, would be for her to move here until 2018, but she has one special needs teen who is home-schooled and one preteen as well, not to mention a husband and an oldest in college.
There's also the Cuban immunotherapy, Cimavax, which basically turns non-small cell lung cancers into manageable chronic conditions, but there's only 1 study in the US right now and she wasn't eligible.The only way to get it is through "medical tourism," and how the hell is she supposed to travel when she needs constant oxygen? I just wish there wasn't so much red tape all over everything that could help.
Basically, there is no easy answer and I hate everything.
As for me, I'm fine. I worked a lot over the holidays, but it's lighter now. I would be using this time to write more (maybe finally finish the damned fic), but it's hard to concentrate on fic when real life is like "What the fuck are you doing? Why aren't you googling portable oygen machines and support groups, you terrible person who obviously doesn't care about anyone but yourself?"
On a rational level, I know that's not true and escaping for a few hours is healthy, but it's what happens every time I try to write or even watch anything. I've taken to watching only youtube stuff because it's shorter and I can justify it to my guilt-happy brain or listening to podcasts because I can do other stuff with them on, like it's only okay to be entertained when it's in short bursts or if I'm cleaning something. I'm way too hard on myself sometimes, but I don't know how to stop.
I do acknowledge that the zika apocalypse or civil war 2.0 would be worse, but since they aren't happening, I'll just keep whining about all this.