Today was supposed to be a good day. I was prepared for our doctor's visit today. I had a list of questions, and a list of what's gone on since last month's visit. I just knew that today would be great. Boy was I wrong.
I got woke up at 4:00 this morning, for no apparent reason. And then, Donny put his hand in the small of my back and used that hand to push himself up. Talk about painful. He had no clue what he'd done.
Somewhere around 5:00, just as I was falling back asleep, a very pissed off husband came and demanded that I go out to the garage. (The garage is his hangout.) It seems that he had gone in the kitchen, turned on the light, and then turned on the garbage disposal. When there are two people using the living room for a bedroom this is a problem. I guess that Donny wanted me to defend him, but I wouldn't. The whole thing blew up out of proportion and my husband nearly left over it.
As if this doesn't make for a bad enough day, it got worse. We went to the doctor, and I asked my questions. The doctor says that Donny's in the end stage now. He also let us know that our insurance won't pay for a transplant. So there goes my last hope. We started discussing how to make the end better. He won't guess as to how long we've got, but I'm scared. I don't know what we'll do. It seems like life works really hard at kicking us while we're down.
My great-aunt suggested that I write to Montel and see if he'll help. She said that sometimes the talk shows will hook people up with doctors who are willing to do the surgery for free. I don't see how that can work when you have to wait for a liver to become available, but I'm desperate enough to try almost anything.