Preparations

5/12/26

     Now and then I have a stretch of time where every night I wake up around three and I’m up until about five.  The cats like it when this happens because they use it as a chance to sneak in an extra meal, but it’s not great for me, especially on a week like this one where I’ve had places to be before work every day and I’ve been working late trying to get everything in shape for my time off. I could try to reset my sleep pattern by taking.Ambien but since we were just informed that I have to be at the hospital at 5 AM for my surgery on Tuesday, I might just stick with the current pattern.

    Having a time for the surgery makes it feel more real. I’m not that anxious about the surgery, but I am anxious about leaving the cats.  My cat sitter won’t be able to give Connor his medicine because Connor will hide from him. He also won’t be able to do what I do to keep up Connor’s weight - give him freeze dried chicken several times a day. If he puts out the chicken while Connor is hiding, the others will just eat it.  And Gretchen, the new girl, is complicated too because so far she has completely refused to eat any dry food. When I get paid, I’m will get her a different kind and see if that helps - Dilo can’t come from the Bronx twice a day to open cans for her.

    The surgeon said to expect to be in the hospital for four or five days. Four days seems manageable  but five days seems long even though logically I know there’s not that much difference. Maybe it’s because I usually spend four days each summer in Gloucester, so I am used to that.

        The one thing I’m somewhat worried about when it comes to the surgery is the possibility of paralysis because he is working so close to the spinal cord. If he nicks the artery and I bleed to death,  it’s going to be a problem for other people, but being trapped in an even less functional body s a frightening prospect.  I need to update my advance directives, just in case.  I hate the idea of someone I care about having to take on the burden that I take on for clients, the weight of having to decide to discontinue life support,  but the default option in our system is to resuscitate aggressively, even when they know the body is pretty much just an empty shell.

    Things are incredibly busy at work right now, this time of year is always like that as we prepare for pride fundraising and client activities.  All of our grant proposals that are due anytime soon have been submitted, in some cases uncharacteristically early since I am well known for hammering out an entire grant in one day right before it’s due, a habit that has stayed with me since my school days. I still have to write our Pride fundraising letter.

   The staff and I have met and come up with plans to keep things running as much as possible in my absence, dividing up various aspects of client services among the people who are most familiar with those topics.  We have designated people to enter data, distribute the carfare, request more bulk food.  My friend Craig, a harm reduction social worker, has agreed to be on standby in case the staff get stuck on anything, and so will Jenna. Liz, our volunteer social worker, has agreed to come in on Fridays while I’m gone as well as her usual Mondays. Doug, our psychiatrist-despite recovering from a badly broken foot - is planning to come in in person on both of the Sundays. -

     Ultimately, though, I just have to trust the staff and they have to trust themselves. They know more than they give themselves credit for.  They know the shelters, youth and adult, can inside and out, Misty knows the supportive housing process, Kevin knows how name changes work, they all know how to apply for benefits and replace identity documents. Robin knows all of the drop in centers and homeless services from his time in the shelters, and Dilo knows the mental health system. The bottom line, I told them,  is that they will help with anything they can help with and if there’s something they can’t help with, it’s going to have to wait.