resolute

Hey, I'm announcing something here to give myself a sense of accountability.

I am declaring a Buy No New Books month of May for myself. (Caveat, I can use audiobook credits I already paid for.)

No new books for one month, and see how it goes.

:fistbump:

On Thursday I had another surgery, a balloon dilation of my supraglottal laryngeal region. I also had a rhinoplasty to remove bone spurs from my nose. Right now I look like the aftermath of a hockey fight.

Healing is better than I'd feared! I am really, really tired, sleeping 10 hours a night and also napping 2-3 hours in the afternoons, but I figure it's justified.

Pain levels have been at a six for three days, and that is a six ON ibuprofen and weed (medical marijuana prescription) and gabapentin and LDN (low-dose naltrexone), it's an eight otherwise, and it is so *exhausting* to be in pain all the time. (My non-flare everyday pain is 4-5, for reference, while on LDN and gabapentin. Ibuprofen and weed are my rescue meds.)

So, after 25 years (more or less) I am moving off of gmail.

My new address is sigridellis@dragonfly.day

I have been sigridellis@gmail.com for over two decades. It is my identity EVERYFUCKINGWHERE. The metric shitton of stuff I have to go find, login, and figure out how to change this VITAL PIECE OF INFORMATION at is... it is a lot. A Lot.

I was an air traffic controller for 25 years.

I had undiagnosed autoimmune disorders for the last fifteen years of that career.

I shared homeschooing duties of our two children with my wife, who also worked at a job outside the home.

I coedited two Hugo-nominated anthologies, edited an SF/F magazine for a year, got on the Otherwise Award longlist with my only published short story, and had stories I edited and published in the magazine win multiple awards. Oh, and I spent three years writing and self-publishing personal comics.

In 2015 I lost the ability to read fiction or nonfiction. I didn't know why. In 2020 my trachea started growing closed, I didn't get surgery for it until 2021, at which point I had an emergency tracheostomy and nearly died in surgery. In 2022 I retired from my career, due to my health. In 2023 I got my autism diagnosis.

In 2024 I regained my ability to read books.

In January of 2025, with the help of my therapist, I realized I had had a severe case of burnout.

I told her, "but I haven't DONE anything that would cause burnout."

For those of you who might be interested, this is brought to you by the AFL-CIO:

The Department of People Who Work

Local event, protects, forums, etc. all over the country and virtually.

1. Went to ENT appointment.
2. Discovered that, when I cancelled my surgery on the 10th because I had covid, today’s appointment was also cancelled.
3. Begged the front desk to please call back and ask if one of Dr. Janus’s nurses could come talk to me about rescheduling the surgery.
4. Was grudgingly told I could maybe see someone if I waited an hour.
5. I thanked this incredibly obstructionary person profusely, because anyone working in any part of the medical system in the U.S. right now is being raw-fucked-over by the system they work in, and I am sympathetic even to heinous roadblocks.
6. In ten minutes Dr. Janus himself came out and welcomed me back in.
7. Crystal, his nurse, said, “you’re one of our VIPs!”
8. NB - one really, really does not want to become a medical VIP, but it is very occasionally useful
9. My trachea is slightly more closed, but still looking great! (For me. My supraglottal and nasalpharyngeal areas are so fucked that I am frequently used as a teaching tool for students.) Only about 25% occluded!
10. I have a RAGING fucking infection. Again. This is the cost of being on two immunosuppressants; they slow down the process of my trachea growing closed and keep me alive, but I am ridiculously infection-prone and cannot fight things off by myself.
11. So I am back on the nebulizer tobramycin twice a day, AND I have ten days of prednisone, which does not agree with me, but should shut down the bronchial inflammation.

I adore Dr. Janus. Seth Janus, ENT in the Twin Cities. He literally kept me from dying, twice. He is a goddamn hero. Every medical professional I mention his name to says he is brilliant and kind and great to work with, all of which I find to be true. (He is also catastrophically ADHD, and his nursing staff have to pick up after him in a classic “absent-minded professor” dynamic.) I knew that if I could just get a message actually to him, I would see him today, and I was right!

But, really, ugh.

That’s how my day is.

On Saturday February 8th, my spouse, J, started feeling quite poorly. As per house operating instructions and her request, we left her alone. Until Sunday evening when I found her laying on the bathroom floor unable to rise or to respond coherently.

Emergency responders were called, and by 6:30 Monday morning J was admitted to the hospital.

The first problem was, what the FUCK was going on? An unfortunate meds interaction was deemed plausible and steps were taken to suss that out. Around 5:00 Monday evening J could formulate sentences and retain information. She had, and still has, no memory from mid-morning Saturday to Monday around 3:00 p.m.

A few things were determined over the course of her stay. First, she has some sort of sleep hypoxia. Home Medical came by this afternoon and set up nighttime supplemental oxygen. Second, her uncontrolled back pain for the last thirteen months has a tentative cause: hip tendinopathy in conjunction with normal spinal degradation. Third, the in-hindsight best guess as to what happened in something like "the covid a couple weeks ago -> dehydration -> feeling unwell -> more dehydration -> some confusion -> accidentally cold-turkey-quitting a whole bunch of meds that CANNOT be abruptly stopped without dangerous effects."

I stayed with her in the hospital from Sunday night until 2:00 this afternoon when she was discharged. We are both home, she is much much better, there are a lot of appointments and phone calls and such to wrangle. But for now?

Home, sleep in our bed, and actual hot showers in the morning.

Civ VII Civ VII Civ VII Civ VII

Yesterday I felt great after therapy (individual). I was so proud of myself. I had done therapy well! I got a good grade in therapy!

Today's (family) therapy has given me a feelings hangover than has now extended to a migraine.

I am not built for the dramatic ups and downs of reality. I would strongly prefer that they remain in fiction, thank you.