Kage Baker would have liked today. A huge, fast, furious storm blew through the Basin, and we got thunder and lightning! Wild winds! Sudden rains!

Of course, most of the freeways are a mess – drowned and covered in trees and rain. Except the 60; that burned yestreday. It gets pretty wild around here as Los Angeles approaches the Solstice. The place whirls around so many other metaphysical poles that bits tend to fly off and hit people when it gets busy.

What leaves were left on the mulberry tree today were blown straight off, horizontally, in a micro burst. Ravens and squirrels have been dive-bombing the lawn all day as they were shaken out of the camphor trees – the Corgi and the parrot are on High Alert, DefCon WTF in anticipation of an invasion by their arch enemies. Christmas decorations all over the city are – well, all over the city. It seems to have snowed tinsel in parts of West Hollywood, and a lot of plastic poinsettias are awry.

Myself, I too have had an exciting time of it. You get real busy when you really are trying to stay alive, I find. I made a quick furious trip back out to Cedars Sinai today, and completed my part of the super-secret waiver form that Medi-Cal sent my doctor. They wouldn’t send it to me … it was half a page of ordinary data (Name, Address, DOB, Gender) which I completed in the waiting room by the light of one of the ubiquitous aquariums.  It’ll be back on its way to Medi-Cal tomorrow: my doctor’s secretary, Pat, is a competent angel. All praise to her!

Tomorrow, more tests – we are proceeding on the assumption that my care will be approved the way I need it. Just so, you know, I don’t have to have a cardiac-complicated pelvic surgery done by a GP who’s never seen me before …  because, really, if they just approve the year’s extension I am asking for, Medi-Cal will end up paying less in the long run than if they let me decay into expensive decrepitude. It’s not like I’m asking for cosmetic surgery or a sex-change or coloured contact lenses. All of which they do pay for …

I pay taxes. Honestly, I do. If they let me live, I figure I’ve got another 20 years in me, easy, in which to keep paying them. I can probably last long enough to break my hip on Fezziwig’s dance floor, and by then it’ll be Social Security’s problem.

All of you, Dear Readers, have been sending me practical, useful suggestions on ways to handle this – please be assured, I am not only grateful but am implementing many of them. They are one of the reasons there has been essentially no lost time in my campaign to reverse Medi-Cal’s decision.And, thanks to you all, I have more arrows in my quiver if I need them. Some of the impractical suggestions have been nice, too. You violently-inclined little critters …

Though Kage would warn you not to give me a firearm. I’ll likely shoot myself in the foot. And just think what trouble that would cause!