A lost day

Nov. 20th, 2016 08:55 pm
kshandra: Cartoon: Garfield face-down in his cat bed, a single Z in a word balloon over his head (Z)
Once upon a time, turning to [personal profile] gridlore in the middle of the day and saying "I'll meet you in bed" meant something decidedly salacious. Today, it just meant he was going to curl up and read while I went back to sleep. (At least until the air hose on my facehugger unplugged itself, anyway.)

We retreated to our bedchamber for a couple of reasons. He'd been up much later than is his usual pattern last night, and woke up ill (he loves Doritos Flamas, but the feeling is not mutual); I was still tired from yesterday's excursion, which came close to tripling my average daily step count.

And we'd had to talk about money issues, which always wears us both out mentally and emotionally. We got letters from the feds earlier in the week, informing us that we officially make Too Much Money™ for Doug to continue receiving Extra Help for his Medicare coverage, so we had to start looking at Part D prescription plans. Thank $DEITY that we actually paid for an AARP membership when he turned 50 this summer, so he has access to their coverage... So now we get to find an extra $86/month to cover that, which I'm really thrilled about. </sarcasm>
kshandra: long-haired woman silhouetted against a stormy sky (Bad)
One of the friends I made in the heyday of pundit fandom wrote an amazing dystopian AU several years ago called The 28th Amendment, taking place in a world where McCain (with Huckabee as his running-mate) won the 2008 election, only to die two months after the Inauguration; the titular Amendment "states that America is and always has been a Christian nation and her laws must therefore be in harmony with God's Laws", specifically outlawing marriage equality and abortion. The story includes Real-Person Slash, which I've grown less okay with as I age, but that's really beside the point here (save that some of you may not want to read it if that isn't your cup of tea). The 28th 'verse has been haunting me in these final weeks leading up to the election, for obvious reasons.

The author tweeted this morning, wondering how she had woken up in her own story.




I almost couldn't get out of bed today. I finally managed about five minutes before I was supposed to be at work, because, as Doug put it last night, "babies are still pooping," and we need my paycheck more than ever now. There's been a fair amount of gallows humor in the office, and I imagine the mood will be even more somber as our drivers (black, Latin@, and Asian) return.

Copied from a comment I left elsewhere on DW:

[personal profile] gridlore will die, no two ways about it, without the Medicare expansion. He'll die, and I'll wind up having to file bankruptcy because there's no way in HELL I can afford his medical care. (Assuming I can afford my own, which isn't guaranteed, despite having coverage through my employer. So maybe we'll BOTH be dead, and it won't fucking matter anymore.)




We'll go on. We have to. I just wish I had the first idea how.
kshandra: The Burning Man effigy, lit in blue neon, arms by his sides; an orange half-moon is visible over his shoulder. (BurningMan)
Back when [livejournal.com profile] dafydd and I were still together, it was common (perhaps even traditional) to hear him declare in early September, "Well, time to go fix what Burning Man broke."

He only ever said it about his truck. [personal profile] gridlore and I aren't that lucky.

As noted in his own journal, Doug broke three metatarsals in his right foot while we were starting to tear down camp on the final Monday night of the event. I asked, more than once, if he wanted to go to Medical; he declined, and I was too brain-fried, despite having veto power, to insist on it.

It was Wednesday morning before he finally admitted "Okay, this isn't just the neuropathy; something's fucked up." Fortunately, Renown was a direct shot up 2nd Street from our beloved Grand Sierra, and everyone we worked with there was terrific. They got him splinted up and sent us on our way with crutches and both print-outs and digital copies of his X-rays. (They offered him The Good Drugs, as well, but we would have had to fill the script while we were still in Nevada, and we were already nervous about what Medicare was going to do with this visit. Fortunately, Doug had had the good sense to pack the rest of the meds he'd been given for last month's procedure, so he wasn't in complete agony.)

Meanwhile, I keep looking down at my own right shin and wondering WTF is going on...

As noted in the tweet above, I finally stopped trying to grin and bear it on Sunday and took myself to Urgent Care. The doctor I saw said I should get an ultrasound the next day to rule out a possible abscess, and come back to see him once the test was done.

15 minutes after calling me to schedule said ultrasound, they called me back and said "We're cancelling that appointment, the doctor wants you to go to the ER instead."

Where I spent two hours and $200* to get diagnosed with leg pain. Dude, I told you that when I walked in here.

I spend the next two days faithfully taking the Motrin they gave me, then email my primary physician for a follow-up appointment when I don't see any improvement. (I'd also had truly atrocious blood pressure readings on both Sunday and Monday, and figured the sooner I got that seen to, the better.)

Gratifyingly, they called me this morning as I was getting ready for work, saying they could fit me in. Confusingly, my BP was back to what passes for normal for me (136/84 - not great, but miles better than the 209/95 they got in the ER on Monday). Reassuringly (if a bit frustratingly), my doctor said "Yeah, it's a contusion, and where it is will take a long time to fully heal. Keep it elevated, heat or ice depending upon what feels better."

In the words of the National Enquirer's old gossip column: "...and how was YOUR week?"




* It was going to be $250, but when I stopped by the cashier's office after today's appointment, they gave me a Prompt Payment discount. File under "linings, pewter."
kshandra: (Wedding)
Several days on, [personal profile] gridlore has begun to think that perhaps the latest unpleasantness wasn't a pancreatitis flare, after all...

As those who follow me elsewhere on social media saw, I came home from work on the 14th to find Doug running a fever of 102. I sighed, figured it was time for another case of pneumonia, and started packing a hospital bag. (With his extensive medical history, 103 is our "grab your coat and a book, we're going to the ER" marker.) We're both so accustomed to things going all the way wrong at once, I'm amazed it actually occurred to me to try OTC meds, but it did, and he dropped three points in as many hours. Crisis averted, we set an alarm for the middle of the damn night so he could take a second dose at EXACTLY the six-hour mark to make sure the trend continued in the right direction, and otherwise got on with our lives.

While the bullet was mostly dodged, Doug has spent the ensuing week with a deep, bronchial cough. Round about lunchtime yesterday, he suggested that maybe he'd simply strained his diaphragm/esophagus from all the exertion. Perhaps the biggest point in favor of this theory is the fact that he never lost his appetite (some of you may recall just how big an issue that was last summer when he was diagnosed).

I'm still looking at the rest of that 6-pack of Kaliber with an incredibly wary eye, though.
kshandra: the highly stylized sphinx logo of the convention's inaugural year (Convolution)
It's been about 24 hours since I got home from Con-Volution. As much as it initially SUCKED to leave [personal profile] gridlore at home on Friday morning (he'd been planning to skip the con even before the latest round of fuckery), I have to admit it was really good to get a break. I'd been stuck in Crisis Mode since his first hospital stay in August, and I was beginning to question whether or not I remembered how to stop. Doug seemed to improve while I was away, too (though it may well have been that I just couldn't SEE the improvements while I was hovering over him).

I spent most of my weekend working in Gallery, though it hardly felt like a job compared to some of the volunteer gigs I've had at cons in the past. But I still managed to get to a couple of events, and spent some time with people I've been missing.

It was a good weekend, and I'm excited for next year.
kshandra: (Wedding)
I was close; "3pm" in hospitalese turned out to be about 5pm. There was a stop for discharge scripts (a potassium supplement and Medication #3 for the oral thrush), and then we came home. He's in the bedroom now, having just gotten off the phone with his mom.

We are still, as I said in the email to my boss that led to the matching funds for the Indiegogo campaign, "both scared, and both trying to hide it from each other, but we both know each other too well for it to work." But for right now, he's home, and I have to let that be enough.
kshandra: The Burning Man effigy, lit in blue neon, arms by his sides; an orange half-moon is visible over his shoulder. (Default)
I'll start with today's news: [personal profile] gridlore is due to be released around 3pm today. (Which is probably 6pm in hospitalese, but we're used to it by now.) Nothing official yet as to what might be wrong, but he saw a specialist yesterday who had some theories, and we'll say more about that when we get confirmation.

Yesterday, however, was fucking difficult for both of us.

I arrived at lunchtime to discover that Doug was on isolation protocol - mask, gloves, and gown - while they checked him for C. diff. Adding insult to injury, the isolation gowns didn't fit me; the nurse cleared me to go in without one, but it was just one more dig I didn't need.

I got back to the office after a couple of hours with Doug and was immediately greeted with two phonecalls one of my co-irkers had mishandled, a round of Geek Answer Syndrome as both of my co-irkers tried to brainstorm what had happened to Doug that I finally had to shut down before I ran out of the building screaming, and a call to a prospective customer (attempting to do damage control on one of the earlier fuckups) who promptly began trying to railroad me into doing things that weren't physically possible. I wound up staying two hours late just so I had time to myself in the building and could actually get some work done. (I'm still under 40hrs for the week, thanks to Thursday's ER trip, so I didn't mind much.)

I was already burnt out when I got back to the hospital in the evening, and Doug wasn't much better, so I didn't stay long. I knew I wasn't going to sleep when I got home, though, so I found a How It's Made marathon on TV (I was hoping for Bourdain, but it was still nicely soothing) and did a little work on the crowdfunding campaign. (We broke 20% last night/this morning!) Finally crawled into bed around 11:30, but didn't fall asleep right away, which was just as well, because it meant I was awake when my phone pinged:

cut for emetophobes )

Before I left last night, I let Doug know that I was planning to spend the morning at home; the Rock & Roll Marathon has half the streets between home and the hospital closed until 1pm, and I had errands that needed doing. And truth be told, I needed a break - I'm pretty sure I've been in Crisis Mode since his last hospital stay last month, and neither of us can afford for me to crash in the middle of all of this. So I've got more How It's Made on the TV (this time courtesy of YouTube and the Roku player I got for my birthday) and laundry in the dryer (which appears to have actually stayed fixed this time, thank g_d, because I'd be in jail for killing our landlord if it hadn't worked today), and I'll head over once I have a clean change of clothes for him.

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...
kshandra: Graffiti of hands ripping open a dress shirt, Superman fashion, to reveal the word FAIL (FAIL)
Tonight's story actually starts on Sunday afternoon; those of you who follow us elsewhere on social media have already heard this part. [personal profile] gridlore and I spent a couple of delightful hours at the welcome-home party for [livejournal.com profile] johnnyeponymous's twin boys (I got to hold one of them! It was awesome!), then decided we would go hide at the mall for a while after that, as it was still 87 bazillion degrees out. We got drinks at Pizza My Heart and sat for a bit, then were getting ready to walk over to the Giants Dugout store to see what might be on sale...

...and Doug almost came crashing down next to me when his foot stopped responding to muscle commands.

The foot that didn't have the proprioception issues after the stroke.

It's a damn good thing that the hospital is right around the corner from the mall. A teleporter might have gotten us there faster, but not by much.

We get taken back, they draw some labwork, and Doug's potassium is cratering. Having done this dance before, we both have an "Oh yeah..." moment. They stuff some K into him orally, and some more through an IV, and he gets discharged with instructions to follow up with his primary care doctor in 2-3 days.

Doc submits a lab order (which is a story in and of itself that I'll let Doug tell once he's home), and I drive Doug over to the hospital today to get it drawn along with his standing order for the anticoagulant clinic.

I've been back at work half an hour when Doug calls and says "The doctor is sending me back to the ER." Truth be told, I was half-expecting the call. Throw myself back into the car, come home and pick him up, and away we go again. Doug's primary doc tells him to ask for a nephrology consult once he's there; she was both approachable and communicative when she arrives, which is always a plus in a situation like this.

It took FOR-EV-ER to get sent up to a room today for some reason, though the ER itself was surprisingly "unbusy" (I stopped myself just short of using the Q word when I commented on this to the transport tech as we were finally going upstairs, and that was the word he supplied). But the room that finally did come open was a single bed (I'm not sure private vs. semi-private applies with the way the rooms are set up in "bays" at O'Connor), so that was a bonus. I had time enough during the hurry-up-and-wait phase to come home, pack a jump bag for Doug, and locate the library's copy of The Martian that had gone walkabout in our living room (which was needful, as there are at least three more people who have it on reserve after us, so we wouldn't have been able to renew it if it was still missing).

I then proceeded to read said book in one evening, between the ER and his room upstairs. At least I got something good out of today!

I finally came home about an hour ago, and I've been working on this post for 45 minutes. I still have work in the morning (where a MASSIVE tray of leftovers from this afternoon's barbecue awaits me in the fridge, because my office loves me as much as I love them), and Doug has asked me to stop by on my way in with some Gatorade for him (which he can have, as he doesn't have any dietary restrictions unlike the last visit), so I really need to get my ass to bed.
kshandra: Graffiti of hands ripping open a dress shirt, Superman fashion, to reveal the word FAIL (FAIL)
[personal profile] gridlore and I made the incredibly difficult decision about an hour ago not to go to Burning Man this year. He is simply not bouncing back from his latest hospital stay the way either of us would like; I've been dealing with massive separation anxiety as a result, and was having real trouble trying to figure out how I was going to fulfill my volunteer commitments out there without falling to pieces wondering if he was okay back at camp.

At least now he'll be able to go for the follow-up labwork they were asking him to do on Monday (and not getting their heads around "the nearest hospital is 120 miles from where I'm going to be for the next week").

Comments disabled, as I posted to FB before coming here, and I think I've hit my limit on sympathy at the moment.
kshandra: Animated: Kermit the frog in front of a red velvet curtain, flailing happily (Yaaaaaaaaaay!)
Just got a call from [personal profile] gridlore; they're supposed to be discharging him "in an hour, hour and a half." Since this ain't our first rodeo, we know that's probably more like three hours, but still - he's coming HOME! (Which means I need to do All The Things now, but I will shuffle up and deal.)
kshandra: Animated: Film-style countdown clock, indicating "Next Mood Swing in 3...2...1..." (Mood Swing)
Today was kind of an up and down day for both of us. The victory of being upgraded to a clear liquid diet brought with it the challenge of trying to ingest said diet after well over a week of insufficient intake and two full days of nothing by mouth. (More than once I found myself thinking of some of the other clients from my time at Cielo House as I fed [personal profile] gridlore his broth at lunchtime, watching him have to psych himself up for the next spoonful.) Two of our Burning Man campmates stopped by for a visit while I was still there, though, and that was good.

We were also visited by the director of the phlebotomy lab, who came up to personally apologize after [livejournal.com profile] qeldoq put a word or two in the right ears. She left a card with a handwritten note and her business card clipped to it, and the assurance that she was going to talk to the department as a whole and the techs who had worked with Doug in particular about listening to patients when they're trying to give relevant information.

At this point, we were both pretty well wrung out from the activity, and I knew that if I kept sitting there I was going to fall asleep, so I made my way back to the office.

After work, I had to swing by the house to bring Doug a change of clothes...and the apartment decided to greet me by having the ceiling light in the living room fail. Between having to change that out (which involved a stepladder and a dropped setscrew as I was trying to replace the exterior globe) and the few minutes of chores I had already been planning to do when I came home, I was lucky I managed to pull myself back out of my chair to go back to the hospital. I at least had a bulb to replace the dying one (it was a CFL, so it didn't blow like a regular incandescent bulb would have, but it developed the classic fluorescent flicker), but it's a lower wattage than the last one, and the color temperature is different as well, so I absolutely need to replace it as soon as I have five seconds to spare. Which will be sometime in October at this rate. :-P

(I'm also, as should come as no surprise, trying very hard not to think about money right now. I'd just told Doug on Saturday that we had $x left to spend before my next check on the 21st, allowing for the two auto-debits that I know are coming out of the account before then...and that went right out the window as soon as he was admitted. My life has been office-hospital-office-hospital-sleep since then, without the time to even throw something in the microwave here in my few conscious hours. Add in my determination to only bring food up to Doug's room that he wasn't going to be tempted by while he was still NPO, and there's been a lot more seafood in my diet this week that wasn't in the original budget. I'm a little afraid to check the bank balance. So going out to buy lightbulbs is not something I want to have to prioritize.)

Tonight's visit wound up being short, as we were both tired, but he was in better spirits than he'd been when I left in the afternoon. Hopefully, there will be good news come morning, in the form of a discharge plan.
kshandra: The closing shot of The Breakfast Club, of John Bender with his fist in the air; "FTW" is superimposed over his body. (FTW)
[personal profile] gridlore, via text message 20 minutes ago: "I've now had three juice boxes. Body is confused, but I feel great." There's also an order in for Ensure. As I was typing this, he pinged again: "Finished my Ensure. I have chicken broth, but feel bloated."

This more than makes up for the lousy night I had; I was awake another two hours after last night's post, with my head spinning over how I really needed to be three people (wow, two years almost to the day since the last time I said that), so I'm running on maybe 4hrs of sleep. But knowing that he's on the path back to solid food and thence to discharge makes all the difference.
kshandra: Rachel Maddow looks skeptically at the camera. Text: "Rachel Does Not Approve Of This Bullshit." (Rachel - Does Not Approve)
...the part where [personal profile] gridlore feels fine, but the lab results don't agree, and I have to try and convince him that no, really, this is how it has to be. His appetite has finally come back online, and he's hungry enough - and angry enough about it - that he actually threatened to sign out AMA if he doesn't get some answers (and a damn meal) tomorrow. And I don't know that I'd be able to refuse him, as much as I might want to.

The levels of communication at that hospital - doctor/patient, inter-departmental - leave a great deal to be desired, but/and as long as the facility continues to get jerked around by current and potential owners, I don't see that changing, sadly.

And I have to get up an hour earlier than usual tomorrow because they're closing our street at 7am for road work, so I don't have the time to sit here fretting over things.
kshandra: Cartoon of a young girl, a purple streak in her hair, at a computer; the text reads "dear blog, I HATE EVERYONE!" (I Hate Everyone)
Today has been a very long week.

[personal profile] kshandra here, as Your Host is currently ensconced in a bed at O'Connor Hospital, being treated for pancreatitis.

"...wait, WHAT?!" I hear you all cry.

"I've been meaning to write an I've-been-sick post," [personal profile] gridlore said earlier this afternoon, in response to a FB comment I had read him from someone who was growing concerned in his extended silence there, "but I've been sick..."

And he has. We'd gone to a birthday party for the Emergency Back-up Niece and the Niece of Last Resort last weekend, and had initially thought that one of the little germ factories darlings there had given us something (I went home sick from work myself on Wednesday). By Saturday, however, we realized something greater appeared to be at work. He was running a low-grade fever, he hadn't been sleeping well, he was dealing with consistent abdominal pain (and related issues with which I will not disgust you). Monday, he called his doctor's office and got an appointment for this morning; he was already in bad enough shape that I told my boss that I'd be leaving early to drive him there.

We got to the doctor's office at 11:20; by 11:50 we were already pulling into the parking lot at the ER. They gave him The Good Stuff™ for the pain, and he was able to get some actual SLEEP between blood draws and CT scans and whatever all else. They told us around 4 that they'd be admitting him at least overnight (which we'd both been expecting, and had packed a jump bag for the purpose). It was after 7pm by the time they finally had a bed clear and took him up to the unit.

At which point the shift nurse started asking him all of the same questions the triage nurse had asked eight hours previously. Because the two systems aren't linked for G_d only knows what reason (perhaps literally, as O'Connor was founded by the Daughters of Charity).

I finally left somewhere around 8; [personal profile] murphymom was on her way back down the Peninsula after having her car worked on, and we agreed to meet for dinner/dessert. (I wasn't even all that interested in the concept of food, but I'd only eaten once today and new I needed to put something in my system.)

And then, for the final insult, I suggested we meet at a restaurant that I subsequently found out is currently closed for remodeling.

We regrouped and determined a Plan B, I devoured my meal as soon as it was in front of me (again, unsurprising - I knew I needed the fuel), we went our separate ways, and I started writing this as soon as I got home.

Now, I need to plan for tomorrow; Doug has asked me to bring his hearing aids (as trying to decipher the nurse's questions over the family of the other patient in the room was all but impossible), and I still need to figure out where the FUCK I managed to misplace the power cord for the Chromebook (which is really pissing me off, as I was the last person to use it, and I KNOW I brought the cord home with me).

And, of course, I have to go to work in and around all of the rest of this.

Updates as I have them; hopefully they'll be less disjointed than this one going forward.

Goddamnit.

Jul. 31st, 2014 10:34 am
kshandra: Cartoon of a young girl, a purple streak in her hair, at a computer; the text reads "dear blog, I HATE EVERYONE!" (I Hate Everyone)
Walked out this morning to go to work, and noticed that some of our camping gear was moved. Asked [personal profile] gridlore about it; he didn't do it, but we decided it was enough to make us move his cot (mine was already under the futon in the living room, where I'd put it after buying it last year) and our back-up tent (the cabin tent is in a HUGE storage bin all on its own) into the house.

It wasn't until I came back out to get in the car that I realized someone had stolen our cooler.

It looks as though I can replace it at either Costco or Target today, which is great. And really, we'd been living on borrowed time, leaving the gear unsecured in our carport; we don't currently have renter's insurance (though I'll be correcting that ASAP; it was a godsend when they took EVERYTHING from our locked garage back in '09), and even if we did, that single item wouldn't come close to making our deductible. I'm just glad that's all they took; they left the 5gal. water cooler, Doug's new cot, and both tents.

But the money I'm using to replace the cooler was the money Douglas and I had put aside to go to dinner tonight, to celebrate the anniversary of his not-dying after the stroke last year, and I'm PISSED.

(And as I noted when I posted this on FB earlier, I know this just sounds like passive-aggressive begging, and I'm just too tired - physically and mentally - to give a fuck.)
kshandra: Rich Uncle Pennybags, pockets turned out and palms upturned, over a background of Monopoly money (Broke)
Good news: [personal profile] gridlore's supplemental Medicare insurance was approved while we were gone last weekend.
Better news: The policy is retroactive to 10/01.

Bad news: We now have to come up with $524 for them by 11/01.

And I'm getting daily phone calls about our outstanding cable and internet bill - which they've already reduced for me once, but is still $200.

And we're starting to get phone calls about the imaging bills from Doug's hospital stay in August.

And the rent is due in a week.

I am fresh out of cope...and out of shame.

The PayPal address is purplekoosh at gmail. I know money is shit for everyone right now, so I certainly don't expect anything, but even just a dollar will help. And if you haven't got a ha'penny, boosting the signal is welcome.

All comments screened.
kshandra: Rich Uncle Pennybags, pockets turned out and palms upturned, over a background of Monopoly money (Broke)
I'd never seen a six-digit hospital bill before.

Fortunately, [personal profile] gridlore's Medicare coverage took our cost share down to about $2K, but that's still more money than we have to spend on anything right now. (And that's on top of the $900 in bills we've already received.)

And I appear to have broken the application site for MediCal - after uploading all of Doug's pending hospital bills, I can't access my half of the profile any longer to upload my ID, the utility bills (all of which are in my name), etc.

Good fuckin' times, let me tell you.
kshandra: The Burning Man effigy, lit in blue neon, arms by his sides; an orange half-moon is visible over his shoulder. (Default)
[livejournal.com profile] drewkitty has a chair he'll be able to loan us; getting it at this end of the trip means we'll have it on the way down, when [personal profile] gridlore wants to stop at the Getty Center for their Canterbury exhibit.
kshandra: (Wedding)
As several of you know, [personal profile] gridlore is a panelist at Conjecture next month. And while PT/OT are going well, his stamina is still fairly minimal, so we're not sure how interested in walking from place to place he's going to be.

To that end: Do any of our friends at either end of our route of march (we're driving from Santa Clara to San Diego) have a wheelchair we can borrow? We rented one for a con in '07, but the amount of money that cost is likely to equal or exceed our total food budget for the weekend. (Los Angeles metro area is also an option; we're staying with [livejournal.com profile] isomeme on Thursday and Sunday nights, so we could arrange a handoff.)

(crossposted hither, thither, and yon)

Home.

Aug. 20th, 2013 08:43 pm
kshandra: (Wedding)
[personal profile] gridlore was discharged from Mission Oaks about 1:00 this afternoon. We drove up to his office so we could collect a letter from his bosses, confirming that he has stopped working (SSA requirement to reactivate his previous claim). Everyone was glad to see him; I had to caution [tumblr.com profile] copyx not to knock Doug over with the force of their glomp. ;-)

From there, we made our way home, and I got him installed on the futon with a beer (which I had to open for him, but so what?). He started catching up on three weeks' worth of reality TV while I went back out to get his newest prescriptions filled and collect the laundry I had dropped off on Saturday.

He went to bed about twenty minutes ago, and is curled up with our bears and a book.

I really can't describe how different the apartment feels with him in it.




This, of course, is only the beginning of a new chapter, and not the end of this story. From here, there are outpatient therapy visits and appointments with his primary physician and applications for ALL the benefits and and and. Thank you to everyone who has supported me/us this far; here's hoping the news only gets better from here on out.

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kshandra: The Burning Man effigy, lit in blue neon, arms by his sides; an orange half-moon is visible over his shoulder. (Default)kshandra

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