Two weeks

It's been two weeks now since my spouse was told that the doctor's office was going to set him up with an appointment for a CAT scan and an appointment with an ENT. He made a phone call yesterday that got him no further than voice mail. It's been a month since they said they were going to put him on an antibiotic that was never spoken of again. This would be funny if it weren't so very fucked up. This would be funny if it were due to a clerical error. It would be funny if we weren't calling them and getting no response. The mass on the side of his throat is very large and very solid. It's the size of my fist. He's running high fevers sometimes 3 times a day. He's lost a massive amount of weight. My upper arms, while I am physically strong, are now larger than his. This is fucking pathetic from the "best healthcare system in the world." If I had another option, I would have taken it by now. He has been able to work probably a whopping 20 hours in the last 6 weeks. 6 fucking weeks. I'm going to have to get another full time job just to make sure we can keep our bills up to date at this point. He's barely able to take me to work some days. I've taken a cab home others because he's feeling so lousy. I am so sick to death of this. And it's nothing he's done. There's not one thing that he's done to make it worse. He's trying. He worked an entire day today. But it's hard. I don't know if I'm going to be able to handle another job or even be able to get one. Fuck.