I am sure many of you saw in the news the great and fabulous and lovely message that vaccinated people do not have to wear masks. I am sure it gave many of you hope, I mean yes, it is a hopeful message, but for someone like me, it felt like a giant nail in my own coffin. I did not get the call yesterday, and I expect my slip of paper was promptly thrown in the trash with my sad story.

So I went in and edited my record with the thing I did not want to manifest by acknowledging it is an issue, because you’d think the litany of issues I have already SHOULD be enough for me to get the damn vaccine so I can ensure the other problem is countered as much as I can manage. So, yup, had to indicate the cancer that is currently manifesting inside my uterus IS an issue. But honestly–I have been so avoiding that revelation because at some point, fucking enough is ENOUGH. The procedure I was recommended to get a few months helps to remove cancer and hopefully not allow it to progress, but I honestly have already disclosed here and other places, I would rather be dead of heart problems and cancer over Covid. I would presume my heart would go out before the cancer would eat my insides, but it did take my grandmother out pretty quickly once it was diagnosed.

Either way, I was pretty despondent and semi-paralyzed to do a fucking thing yesterday once I read the news about the CDC, because I would have assumed with news like that, all vaccine hesitancy magically vanished in a poof like action. And I bet it did–there were no calls to me from the pharmacy, there is simply no way that all of these people over 65 are suddenly going to NOT take the vaccine. And let me just once again remark–there is ABSOLUTELY no way in any universe I will live to 65 in any kind of human-like or admirable condition. I hope and pray that whatever big stroke I get next takes me ALL out, vs leaves me half-slumped, half cognitively aware, half the person I am now. Big is of course the qualifier, but honestly—I know I am lucky to have lived this long at all. I am just pissed and a little ornery and a little angry that me, the person wearing the fucking mask the longest, the person DOING ALL THE RIGHT SHIT the longest, is possibly going to just die after having survived so much shit.

I just do not know what else I can do. I have made countless calls, tweeted, tried countless systems, bitched at the governor directly, cried to pharmacies and I have tried so hard to be my own ally and help myself but the universe is just shoving a big fucking middle finger in my face saying, “ya know what, Deanna, you DON’T get to live. You’ve lived long enough” and at some point you realize when ALL of the signs are the same message–you listen and you prepare.

Sure, I’ve got the tiny sliver of hope I always will have that my end isn’t coming. But I have also spent a good deal of time hoping that if I do get reincarnated or some choice later on that it is NOT in this country that ruins the lives of its citizens with health problems. That it is somewhere basically almost anywhere else except maybe third world, though every year this country exists, it feels closer to that. So my living head wants to get me further, and my dying head wants to get me further away. I guess we’ll see what side wins.