After 20 years of trying, I'M GETTING A HYSTERECTOMY!! Damn thing is even scheduled. Like.. a real appointment for a whole surgery. September 1st, 2024 I think my favorite part (besides it being REAL!!) is that I'm covered by Medicaid. Fully. …Now, I'm not holding my breath but here's to hoping and I'll take the surgery either way. But! I still gotta eat and pay bills. Explanation for the Go Fund Me: (full story will be posted to my blog - scroll to the bottom for the short plan) Yes, I knew I was finally approved to get surgery but I certainly wasn't counting on it. I've been "approved" less than a handful of times in 20 years; I'll be told I medically need it (for something aside from gender affirming care), to then only be denied 1½ -17 steps later. Most of the time, however, they would flat out deny me the option. My current dates for actual operation, under gender affirming care, were guesstimated to land more towards November 2024. Don't get me wrong, I'm ELATED to be seen in September!! ..It's just that it's about 3 months earlier than I had planned for. The original order of operations was to get all my things moved to where I'll eventually end up living. I would finish closing things up in my surgery/home state and move myself upon that end. I have medical insurance until June of 2024, and I'm going to use that shit as long as I can. Because my insurance covers the hysterectomy, all I needed to fund myself for was the time off work. At the beginning stages of all these surgery and its preparation appointments being made, I had (what I was told and thought was) stable housing. I still say I had spoiled stable housing - I didn't even pay rent and I had my own room. That would allow me to work as much as I reasonably could and start saving for the post-hysto needs. Shortly after my initial appointments were scheduled, I began running into problems with my boss, who is also the business owner. I have been in my profession for over 11 years and had been working for her close to 11-ish months. More often than not, my personal working reviews consist of being among the top people in the state within my scope of practice. Having objective workplace issues has never been a thing for me, as a professional or in-house employee. What does happen, is me being pushed out. Half the time, I'm fired for unknown reasons. The other half, I end up quitting or being phased out somehow because I refuse to continually be exposed to willingly inappropriate behavior. Unfortunately, this employer gets a little crazy acting in the severely unmedicated bipolar sort of way. Eventually it came to my attention, she had made it a semi-regular habit to tell the clients I saw that I was "having money issues" pertaining to the business. If this "money" thing were a non-made-up problem, I was not aware of it. Spouting information like that to clients - and good grief, poorly fantasized information - could directly affect my career's license. Due to all the other personal problems with her prior to this (gonna have to read the blog when it comes out, sorry), I decided I stayed quiet long enough. It gets yucky here.. The housemate was my current coworker, and once previous to this job. We would discuss plenty on our 2 hour one-way drive to work about how wrongly mannered our probably bipolar boss was practically at all times. You betcha when I told her I was going to turn the owner into the state, none of that mattered. I was immediately told "NO, DUDE!" among a few other phrases and excuses you might expect. … I'll tell you now, Reader… If you are the profits over people type, you're not going to like me much so don't bother consuming anything else I write or produce for that matter. I'm the put your money where your fucking mouth is kind, and you bet your ass you'll be held to it if you call me your friend. I should have known with her, but that context is for the long story. On a May's end Thursday, I had told the house owner/coworker/friend I was going to probably turn the boss in to the state since there isn't truly anything else someone like me can do in that sort of scenario. By Monday morning I received what I've named The Romance Novel Text explaining (to my girlfriend and I for some reason, in a solo text to me also excluding her husband from our usual group text..?) how since January, she (very basic, shortened version) has been feeling uncomfortable with my presence in their house. I was given the regular month notice to fully remove myself and items, being done by June 20-something-th, 2024. I would have been fine with the notice to move out (aside from the obvious friend betrayal), had May not just happened.. The housemates redid their main floor and I volunteered to go stay at a hotel around the beginning-mid-ish month. I'm not sure what the fuck else I would have done with my room bein upstairs, but even with 48 hours "hey, i think we're going to start on the floor" notice, I happily went for it because I had the money to cover the 4-6 days they would need to complete. …You have to know it took longer than that, right? 4 days turned into 7 turned into 10 into 14. 1600$ later i'm putting groceries on credit cards because May is the slowest month of the year at that particular job. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you the entire town is basically closed except Friday and Saturday nights. We go from thousands of dollars a week down to almost nothing for about 6 weeks. Every year. It's almost like it's a town schedule. As far as I knew, I had a house to go back to, so I knew I'd recover ok soon enough… ha… Being kicked out because I "fucked with someone's money" or whatever would have been doable, but not after all that. Imagine finally getting to save some money - post fixing the car, post fixing the car again, post catching up on the credit cards you used for groceries for months before, all while actively driving 2 hours one direction to work - just to spend absolutely everything on a fucking hotel so someone that you were all for making their floor look prettier, could tell you to leave as soon as you got back. Staying the full 30 days she gave me in the house didn't feel right, so I left as soon as I could reason any feasible way to go. That's when I had to move a month's worth of my active living life to storage, and everything else was going to another state. I had no other choice and nowhere else to go, but more on that in the blog. Someone funded that first move in its entirety, and I don't know what I would have done without them. I could not have done it without them. My girlfriend and I drove all day one way to move almost everything I own, came back a day later, and flew her home while I stayed in the state I started in. This time I only had my suitcase, bathroom bag and whatever was left in that tiny storage unit - which, by the way, I got for free because of the someones that rented me the trailer to move my life around the fucking US. I'm sure you guessed, but didn't last much longer at the job before having to quit. I couldn't take the risk of being there anymore. I couldn't take sexual comments about my body from the fucking boomer boss bitch anymore. I couldn't take the condescending remarks about my intelligence to beauty ratio. I couldn't keep watching her, the owner, abuse the 2 front desk people she could keep in the year I had been there, while the rest of the staff kept their mouths shut. I couldn't take being bought when I could make money elsewhere. Quitting early allowed me to relocate the remainder of my things to my future residence with the money I made back. I barely had been able to work enough to do so and I anticipated staying to help around in the new state until my November surgery that could be happening. Yeah - did you forget this story is really about me getting a hysterectomy?! To say "real life doesn't stop" is a fucking understatement.. I start to settle in my things to the new state. I unload what is left of my life. I sleep for 3 days straight after working my ass off 3 days straight from trudging this far. That Friday July 14th, I receive a message from my surgeon while I'm in this other place I've been for about 4 whole days - you know, the place I planned on staying until November.. The message says I have an appointment on July 25th, 2024. Yup. An appointment. In 9 fucking days. …Look, yall… I have desperately tried 20 fucking YEARS to get any damn human to help me with my insides and now, by some miracle, I'm in the process of getting a hysterectomy with a real hospital with an amazing woman surgeon who is sending me real dates for real procedures. I wasn't about to change that appointment and fuck anything up. Period. The next day, I wasn't ready when a notification came through stating I'm scheduled for surgery September 1st, 2024. I think I cried the rest of the day. It never felt real until now. And it wasn't. But now it's real. And I'll be goddamned if we're missing it. Sunday night on July 16th, my partner and I drove back in 103° to the state of my doctors again. I'm being saved from further summer car camping by an incredible friend and crashing this beautiful, perfect, comfy, air conditioned couch until about 1 week after my surgery. I had my pre-op procedure yesterday (July 25th) so I won't be working for another day or two. It was to check a few things before we go full hysto. September 1st, 2024 is the surgery date, seemingly no matter yesterday's test results. I've been trying to get concert work but the company isn't calling any of their non-new employees - newbies are cheaper. This is a rinse and repeat of last year for me, but they had worked me at the start of July. I was hoping that would last longer but it seems I was maybe only wishful thinking. So that's the deal: I had money saved, spent it all on a hotel for myself to help be out of a friend's way during a deathly slow money making month, got kicked out of my room anyway a week later, quit a terribly abusive job, made a little more money to move the rest of my stuff, got a super surprise set of very important appointments after just successfully physically relocating everything I own and almost myself, and instead immediately came back 3 months early, only now without funding. I don't have rent to pay, but I am taking up space in someone's apartment. I don't lack employment, but I'm not really being worked at all for whatever reason. I have multiple maxed out credit cards because I had to buy food on them for months. There was a surprise flat and a new full set of tires in there, too. Yay, right? I have a phone, car and insurance(s) I pay for. I have to have thc/pot/weed because my little autistic body doesn't operate without it. I have to feed myself. THE PLAN: I have a couch to stay on until 1 week post surgery, but will likely need an air bnb or long term hotel plan or a room after that time is up. I will only be staying in this state as long as my appointments require, and right now that's October 4th, 2024. I'm going to do my absolute best to work all the way up until August 31st but right now I can barely buy food and can't cover bills. Current funding as it is, I will need help now THROUGH September. This is long winded enough so please feel free to ask me anything I missed or anything you'd like to be updated on. Thank you all for being there for me. To the people who give and apologize for it not being more, every single dollar helps. I promise. I'm SO INTENTIONAL when spending anything I'm given and cannot thank you enough. Comments, words of encouragement or care, money or not - I can't begin to tell you how much it means to someone like me. So Much Love To You All. Later, Dirties cashapp: $TheOuting venmo: @ TheOuting
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