Let's Get Vital Care For Suzie Cue

From Suzie:

Hey friends,

As many of you know, I have health problems. Like, seemingly fucking constantly.  Sometimes it’s clear what those are (like how I had bronchitis 3x in 7 months this past year), sometimes it’s a bit more ambiguous (like why is my left hand losing its mobility and why am I dizzy a lot and why do I shake like a Chihuahua sometimes and oh god am I Chihuahua [I’m not].

It has gradually gotten worse over the years, despite many doctor visits when I was younger (i.e. had amazing insurance) & great strides over the years to improve my health and lifestyle (which is hard for most of us to do, and may I just say, I have been especially kicking ass at it this year; HUGE thanks to the close friends who have noticed, supported and commended me for that—it has REALLY helped motivate me; but I digress!). It’s weird, I’m actually probably living the healthiest, happiest life I’ve lived yet.

And yet, I feel shitty pretty much every day, whether it’s fatigue or dizziness or migraines or motor skill issues or stomach problems. And while I feel like my depression is at a consistent, all-time low, that shit pops up now and then too, though luckily not as frequently or severely as it used to (yay progress!).

That said, it turns out that getting shot in a drive-by can fuck with you a bit, even if it’s “not a real gun” (yes people actually said that to me afterward—again, digressing), and so I’ve also been especially anxious and antisocial lately. So while on one hand, I’m doing great—eating better than ever, not overworking like I’m prone to do, drinking more water and barely any alcohol, exercising a bit, getting reasonable amounts of sleep (I KNOW, I SMOKE STILL, IT’S DUMB; SHUTUP)—I’m also feeling shittier in some ways.

And in the interest of not only taking better care of myself, but also dealing with the obvious long-term health issues I’ve been ignoring or trying to manage for many years (and at the behest of several close friends who were legit concerned about me—again, thank you), I’m seeking medical attention. I am uninsured, and this shit ain’t cheap (let’s be real, it ain’t cheap WITH insurance either, but that’s a whole other long-winded tirade I’d love to go on, but maybe another time).

Thanks to my friend/employer/second mom Kit, I now have a GP who I like and trust. We’re working together to get to the bottom of what’s going on, and for once, I’m hopeful on that front (you have NO FUCKING IDEA how many specialists I saw and tests I had run in college, holy shit you guys). Part of what that entails is running tests to confirm what she believes is going on—an autoimmune disorder. As many of you also know, that shit can be tricky to diagnose, and almost always requires visits to a specialist or 2.

So I gotta get some tests run ($$$). And then I gotta see my rad doc again ($) to put me on some shit ($$), depending on the results. Meanwhile, she’s referred me to a neurologist ($$$), with whom I’ll have an appointment and see what the hell he wants to do and what tests, if any, he wants to run ($$$). And all the while, I’m working on getting a therapist ($) to deal with this trauma-related anxiety.

Y’all know what I do and where I work and that I FUUUUCKING love my jobs (both my full-time job and my various odd jobs—teaching music, playing shows, hosting open mic, working at the raddest venue on the Southside), but let’s be honest, I don’t make amazing money. I work in the arts, y’all. I am rich in many things—friends, creativity, beauty all around me, cats (the richest)—but cash just ain’t that thing.

So if you’ve got a couple bucks to throw down, it is much appreciated, and for the record, I really hate asking, so again thank you to Kit for putting this together to help me out.

Oh, also huge thanks to the 2 close friends who have offered to marry me to get me health insurance. It is equal parts hilarious, sad, and incredibly sweet.
And just to clear some things up, some FAQs:

-You’re awfully tiny. What’s that about? Look, I wish I knew. You don’t get to be an 80-pound grown-ass adult and not have like, pretty obviously something wrong with you, so I mean, I’d actually really like an answer to that myself. That’s kinda what we’re doing here, ya know what I mean? Also, don’t ever ask people that if you don’t know them very well—it’s rude AF.

-So do you like, EAT food, or what? Yes. Like, all the fucking time, to no fucking avail. Go ahead, ask around—I eat with my friends a lot, and while occasionally I won’t eat ALL my food, I usually school a pretty decent amount, if not all of it. No, I don’t throw it up. No, I don’t have nor have I ever had an eating disorder. Yes, I’ve been asked this a lot over many, many years.

-You look like you do drugs. Okay so first off, that’s not a question even. Second, rude. Third, just no. Hell, I was afraid to take aspirin for years—I have heart problems and am middle-school-kid-sized—that’s a TERRIBLE fucking idea. I’d already be dead, y’all. Also an incredibly you clearly don’t know me well (because if you did, you’d know I don’t even need drugs to act like this; it just happens icky assumption to make about someone). And yes, I also hear this a lot.

Gross, right?

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Organizer and beneficiary

Kit Kellison 
St Louis, MO
Suzie Gilb 
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