WebKittyn Warbles

There's actually a lot of truth in this. I'm too wiped mentally to put anything together tonight after yet another round on the phone with the insurance morons.

So instead I offer up this quiz, try it. I was pretty surprised with how much of it I agreed with.

What Heatherlyn Means

You are truly an original person. You have amazing ideas, and the power to carry them out. Success comes rather easily for you... especially in business and academia. Some people find you to be selfish and a bit overbearing. You're a strong person. You are friendly, charming, and warm. You get along with almost everyone. You work hard not to rock the boat. Your easy going attitude brings people together. At times, you can be a little flaky and irresponsible. But for the important things, you pull it together. You are usually the best at everything ... you strive for perfection. You are confident, authoritative, and aggressive. You have the classic "Type A" personality. You are a seeker. You often find yourself restless - and you have a lot of questions about life. You tend to travel often, to fairly random locations. You're most comfortable when you're far away from home. You are quite passionate and easily tempted. Your impulses sometimes get you into trouble. You are wild, crazy, and a huge rebel. You're always up to something. You have a ton of energy, and most people can't handle you. You're very intense. You definitely are a handful, and you're likely to get in trouble. But your kind of trouble is a lot of fun. You are relaxed, chill, and very likely to go with the flow. You are light hearted and accepting. You don't get worked up easily. Well adjusted and incredibly happy, many people wonder what your secret to life is. You are a free spirit, and you resent anyone who tries to fence you in. You are unpredictable, adventurous, and always a little surprising. You may miss out by not settling down, but you're too busy having fun to care. You are very intuitive and wise. You understand the world better than most people. You also have a very active imagination. You often get carried away with your thoughts. You are prone to a little paranoia and jealousy. You sometimes go overboard in interpreting signals.

Detox my bod thoroughly now that I've quit smoking.

I'm in bad shape physically. All those years of smoking and not eating food with any nutritional value is finally bothering me. I'll skip the details but with all the stress of the past month my bod has been badly abused in terms of what I eat and drink and last night was a horrible night for me.

Don't read this if easily grossed out. Hell, I'm still grossed out.

Due to a lack of a certain daily activity I found myself eating the following last night: 2 fiber pills, 2 laxatives and (for the kicker) eight large prunes. Yes, always the extremist. Eight prunes.

Six AM this morning (after a night of truly evil stomach pains) it all hit me and we'll leave it at it is now 7:37 PM and I haven't slept a wink from being sick over and over. Three times throwing up as well and the return of the crippling headache, blurry vision and dizzy feeling.

Enough of this shit (no pun intended). It's time to detox all the bad out of me and start eating Activia or something. Don't talk to me about veggies, I don't like veggies. I like lettuce, carrots, red cabbage, radishes, lima beans and raw peas out of the pod. But I do want to do something to cleanse/purge my system and not put anymore nicotine in it and work on detoxing some of the other food residue.

Maybe I'll ask Binary Blonde, she's the healthiest person I know. I don't want to diet, I want to know what I need to totally clean out my system. Doesn't matter if it's harsh, after this morning I can take anything. Then when detoxed I can start working out and getting Everest-ready.

So anyone out there know of a good and healthy detox system? I see a lot of them in GNC and stuff but I'd rather go on the advice of someone else instead of eenie meenie miney mo, which of you will make the toxins go?

Shit, I remember when this blog used to be fun.

My apologies to all the cool people from Blog 365 I have yet to go see and comment on. I promise I will, don't give up on me! I'm usually much more together than this.

My advice for the day: Never ever eat eight large prunes.

I spent the afternoon today on the phone with Blue Cross and the hospital woman who is handling the transfer. There's a cacophony of bad coming from all directions and my mother is finally at the end of her rope. She's hung in well this long, she just can't handle the stupidity coming our way so I've taken over. It's good for me, better to have something real to rage about than sit around feeling sad.

I'm repeating myself, forgive me. I want the whole thing here for me but I know I've mentioned a bit of it before.

With all you hear about health care in the US, I never really gave it much thought. I guess a lot of people do that and it's wrong, they don't really care about something until it hits them on a personal level. I need to change that, alter that part of who I am now that I'm seeing how truly borked health care is.

Last week they told us he was recovered enough that they couldn't do anymore for him at the hospital and it was time to get him to the rehab center to start the weaning/recovery. They told us in no uncertain terms that he would be going to the Northeast Center for Special Care. Done deal. Two people from there had already been in to see my dad and it was settled. They told us to go take the tour and do it soon as he would be going in the very near future.

So we went and we fell in love with the place, I was ready to move in. The atmosphere is incredibly cheery without being too much. The first thing you see when you walk in are recovering people in chairs and a massive fish tank with large fish. It's sunny and it feels alive.

First place we went was down "Main Street" which has a general store, clothing store, salon and barber, bank, post office and restaurant. Then she explained that there are 4 "Edens" where different things go on. They're gigantic rooms and I wanted to sit and play in the art one. All the walls are lined with art people have done and she showed me on gorgeous piece that was done by a 'neighbor' (they don't call them patients) who is now successfully selling his work in NY city at his own gallery.

She stressed that it's not an old age home by any means, there are a lot of twenty-somethings there and we saw one guy working who lost his leg fighting the war.

There are different wings; spinal injuries, brain injuries, the ventilator ward and somewhere off is the 'gated community' for those with dementia.

All the rooms either look out on the campus or into one of the "Edens" which all have skylights. The rooms are big and bright with television, internet connection and a closet that locks.

They have 24 hours visiting. They have a library where I know he would be. Large screen TVs, pool tables, cafes, everything. Best part? People are encouraged to bring their pets!

Before we left they showed us the 'tester apartment' that neighbors have to live in for 5 days before they can go home to test their independent living level and whether they can handle the everyday things of life. It has a bigger kitchen than where I live!

The website (linked above) is full of information as well.

We left there feeling good. Really good. There wasn't one thing any of us could find to complain about and I snickered the whole ride home thinking of them taking my dad down to the art Eden for art therapy. The horse he would like. My mother even went home and packed his bag and I was getting all the DVDs together that we got him for Christmas.

Then the axe fell. On New Year's Eve, what the hell is up with that????

New Year's Eve day I'm sitting here already miserable with the headache, the puking and the exhausting insomnia. The phone rings, it's the woman from the hospital handling his release info. She says Blue Cross denied him as they don't contract with the Northeast Center and he must go to Wingate.

What.....the......fuck......

My mother, who had been in such a good mood when she came home from the morning visit (he was up and he talked and she understood him), came home in hysterics.

First I checked out the website and was not impressed. It has no information, no specifics. It's bland and unfriendly.

Wingate itself is depressing. It's much more clinical than Northeast. The care is fine but recovery isn't just the physical end. It's further away and visiting hours close at 8. There are no pets and no pets welcome to visit. I would only get to see him on weekends without a car and my mother would only make it for an hour a day after work. Mentally, Wingate would do nothing for his recovery shit, when you almost die, spend 36+ days in the ICU not knowing if you'll ever speak and be heard again or be able to breathe on your own again - you need the mental end.

Of course I couldn't do anything yesterday except write. It's an election year, we have two candidates from NY running and a Governor everyone hates so I got to writing. My mother is friends with the Assemblyman in town, sher set up an appointment with him. We wrote (email and snail mail) to Charles Schumer. We wrote to Rudy. We wrote to Hillary. Putting my father in a worse place than he is to give more payout to one place sucks. I don't expect any replies but strange things happen when candidates want to win.

So today I call Blue Cross and was lucky enough to get a woman who spoke English, was kind and seemed to care. I explained everything to her, she put me on hold forever and came back to tell me she was confused. Blue Cross had never denied his claim to go to Northeast, she said. She said the issue was a lack of paperwork on the side of the hospital. He was denied because they had never even sent the paperwork saying it was necessary for him to be there. Ummmmm.... She said there was no indication of Wingate in his file.

Next stop, call the hospital and the case worker. She of course says everything Blue Cross had just told me was incorrect. She gave me a fishy-sounding story about maybe because of the holidays and staffing changes the paperwork had gotten lost. It just sounded to me like it was never sent. I mean, come on. They don't know if it's even necessary for him to go to rehab because they never got the paperwork. She swore up and down she was doing everything she could and working all day to get answers but when I asked her why not just send the paperwork she gave me a condescending answer like I was too feeble to get it.

She told me that it costs Blue Cross more to keep in in the ICU on the vent than it does to move him to rehab and vent weaning. She then told me that this nasty MSRA he has could work in his favour as Northeast has a private room for him and is willing to take him "with the sputum" so they should cooperate once the missing paperwork is found. This disturbed me.

The only reason she thinks he'll get in Northeast is because it's cheaper for Blue Cross? Pardon me but that reason sucks. What happened to because it's a better place that he'll get better in faster and come home to his family? Idealist I am.

And that's where we leave off for now. Nowhere. The hospital woman is off tomorrow so we won't hear from her until Friday and who knows what she'll say. I do know the paperwork better be where it needs to be by then or I'm going postal.

This is a load of crap that should be a simple process of move the patient to where he'll recover. Period.

I took my blood pressure last night, it was 246 / 141. Stroke out, anyone?

*********LOOK, THERE'S MORE***********

Sometimes it's hard not to throw one's hands up in frustration and howl at the incompetence of the world.

I called the woman at Northeast that I liked, she gave me a different set of answers and I believe her.

The Dr. at Blue Cross denied it because he said my father needs acute care and Northeast is a sub-acute care facility. Only problem is - he does NOT need acute care. Acute care is 3 hours or more of OT/PT/ST and sub-acute is 1 1/2 or more of OT/PT/ST. It clearly states on his records that he does NOT require acute care or an acute care facility. Seems they would know this if the woman at the hospital in charge of it all sent the paperwork. So at least the missing paperwork has been identified.

She gave me the name of the 'nurse' at Blue Cross she talked to who kept insisting that he needed acute care even though she'd never seen him or saw any of the paperwork and without telling me what to do, told me she would call a manager there and report this nurse.

So who the hell knows. My mother is there now talking to the head of the ICU and hopefully something can be done. While all this stupidity is going on my poor father is there with his ventilator and MSRA only wanting to get the hell out and get better.

To find even one small positive in everything life throws at me.

Doesn't have to be big, it can be as small as a comfortable new pair of socks, but I will find and point out one positive in every pile of cowshit life tosses at my head. I will write it so I have to look back on.

I am way behind in my updates. It's been such a stress-filled two weeks and I've been sick the last week like never before so please forgive me.

There's so much going on, I'd be crazy to try and cram it all in one post.

Happy 2008, people. May it be a healthier, happier year all around.

My dad is still in the ICU, still on the ventilator although at this point it's at 40% with his level at 99 so it's not bad. Blue Cross is causing a lot of issues with the rehab center, I'll have a lot to write on health care in NY in the coming days. The system is really a mess, I never realised it before.

Things aren't good but they're better. After the past month I'll take better. It's 35 days today he's been in the ICU and he recently acquired MSRA, a 'super bug' staph infection that he got from being in the damn ICU so long.

I put the patch on again today at 9:30 this morning. I blew it last time, I am going to make it this time. I feel really stupid smoking as I'm crying over a man on a ventilator. Just not right.

So here it is, my big year of change. I was driving with my mother over the Kingston bridge the other day and it hit me what a beautiful area I'm moving to. The Catskills are right there and they have basic mountaineering training there. The people are so completely different from what I'm used to and life is a slower, more laid-back pace. I have so much to write about that, too. Knowing I'm never going to live in Dobbs again is weird but really exciting. I hate what my life had become, more than I ever let on to anyone.

My mother and I were working on what we were going to do with the books. Converting the garage into an organised room with floor-to-ceiling bookcases with books all in order that would become my thing to run. Weekends in Woodstock and getting to know people there.

Christmas sucked. It was as good as it could have been without my dad but it sucked because of the lack of my dad. The presents were wonderful and we did the best we could but let's face it, it wasn't Christmas.

I've been really sick. Ever since he went in I've had this perpetual pain/headache. It's at the top of my spine/bottom of my neck. It's always there but it's not always bad. When it gets bad it's cripping. Runs across my shoulders, up my neck, up my head and eyes. On top of that has been a migraine-esque headache with all the symptoms. For the past 4 days I've been throwing up every day, multiple times. Not hardcore food puking but phlegm and stuff. Yug. 8 times yesterday. I didn't sleep at all Sunday night because every time I laid down I couldn't take a deep breath so I sat up all night listening to 101.5 WPDH Poughkeepsie and cried, which only made it worse. Last night I got fed up and popped a valium and managed to get about 7 hours of sleep. Put the patch on this morning, haven't thrown up all day and managed to eat a pancake.

Resolution #465 is to find at least one positive in everything life throws my way, no matter how hard it seems, so I'm trying to balance all of this without sounding whiney. Things are bad but they were worse 3 weeks ago.

So happy 2008 to anyone reading this, what are your plans for the new year?

He had to have a spinal tap today and I won't get to see him until tomorrow night. This is killing me, I was counting on being there in the morning but I got screwed.

The trach took. He's down to 75% with 95 breathing level which is good but he's got elevated white cells and a fever they can't figure out. I guess that's what the tap was for. They had to sedate him fully after it, he was moaning in obvious pain. He was trying to talk, it makes a gurgling sound I need to get used to.

Up, down, up, down. I can feel my strength and my sanity fading and last night / tonight's slap in the face did not help, it was like the final push off the edge of the cliff.

Now I can't even see him until late tomorrow when he's back under full sedation. It's rather cruel.

My mother cried a lot today, more than she has in a week. I bit yet another hole in my cheek trying to keep dry-eyed.

They still haven't done the second surgery for the PEG, not with the fever. Which means his move to rehab will be put off even longer.

I'm just having a really hard time with all of it tonight. I didn't drink any pineapple rum, I didn't take a valium. I don't want to numb myself with a crutch but I admit, I'm not dealing well. I think I threw up 6 times today from nerves.

I feel another cry coming on.

While my father has been sick I've seen some amazing gestures of kindness and concern by various people, both from my end and my mother's. I'm always surprised and touched by acts of kindness and at the same time tremendously saddened by acts of cruelty. Man's capability to be so good and so cruel boggles me.

Tonight someone said the cruelest thing to me I have ever heard. It would have been heartless to begin with but to say it while my father is literally fighting for his life makes it all that much worse.

I'm not going to get into what was said, people read this thing and would make the connection and I don't want to talk about it. I'm still shaking, I'm still stunned, I'm still in shock that there can exist such cruelty in a world that also breeds such kindness.

Someone said to me tonight that life doesn't give us more than we can carry. I disagree. I'm carrying my dad being the way he is. I'm carrying helping my mother get through the hardest time in her life. I'm carrying planning a move I've wanted but not under these conditions. Now I'm supposed to be able to carry random cruelty from a friend and another change that alters everything? I'm not that strong, I can't carry all of this.

I was doing the best I could and I was doing pretty well. I really was. Now I'm hurt in a way I don't think will ever heal.

Why are people cruel for sport? Why are people stupid and worry about the wrong shit?

The facade will continue. I will continue to be there for my mother and only the cats will see the breakdowns. I'm not so sure about turning to people anymore, not when the potential is there for cruelty.

I've had a lot of crap thrown my way, a lot of people aren't fond of me. This was by far the cruelest thing by a long shot.

Why are people like that.

It's late now, I'm sitting here quietly trying not to let my head mess with me (my mother still refuses to sleep in the bedroom so hysterics are out while she's sleeping on the recliner 10 feet away).

Slept for an hour, got up and we left early for the hospital. On top of it all the weather people were all predicting Armageddon so we were out of the house before 9. Sat with him until they took him up around 10:30, surgery at 11. ICU waiting rooms are very depressing places even if it is a pretty hospital.

One of the doctors I had spoken to earlier in the week who explained the difference between tracheostomy and the dude on tv with the voicebox) had told me he would be able to talk with the trach. They tell us after they took him up that he will not be able to talk at all as long as the trach is in.

Can you say absolutely and totally crushing?

The surgeon came in around 12:30 and said the tracheostomy went fine but they were unable to get the PEG in which means he will have to have a second surgery and more dangerous anesthesia. It didn't dawn on me until later to demand answers as to why they didn't coordinate both at once.

The ventilator was at 100%, his level 92. His mouth was all purple and cracked and swelled out. He didn't look like my dad. They put compression boots around his legs. I went to hold his hand and it was cold.

I am really proud of myself, I didn't break down in the room. My mother was crying, I held my own for her.

We left around 3:30, I wanted to stay but the snow was really coming down. Came home to digest all of it.

When I called in tonight at 10 to check they had the ventilator down to 80% and his level was at 92. This means his body didn't reject the trach and all is well with that. It's a tiny bit of good news and I'm happy for it with all the bad of today.

They said he'll be able to mouthe words, unfortunately I'm not a mind reader. That is if he's okay enough to take out of sedation.

His arms are still restrained, I sit there and look at that and it's like it's not my dad there.

As usual, no one knows anything and all we can do is see how he is tomorrow. My poor mother has to get up and go to work until 2 so I won't get to see him until 3 or so. I want to be there earlier, I want to be there if they let him up for a bit and he's aware. I have no clue if he knows I've been there or not and that's rough.

He loves wolves, always has. Last year I made him a wolf picture, one of those things you follow the lines and scratch the black off with a tool and there's silver foil under it. I have no artistic skill, he caught me working on it and we both laughed at how we thought it would come out. It came out gorgeous. Tomorrow I'm going to bring it to the hospital and leave it on the table.

I was cleaning a bit in here before and I found a picture of him in a Santa suit for my cousin Bonnie's kids, had to be 15 years ago. I cried like a baby.

I know it's just a matter of time before I really lose it. I dread Christmas eve and day. All I want is for my dad to get better.

Welcome to the 10th circle of Hell.

I'm off to the hospital now for his surgery.

Here's to hoping for just one small positive anything.

And it's going to snow, 10 inches!

Bleh.

Tomorrow is a big day, tomorrow is the surgery. They're going to do the trach and from there no one can say anything other than 'prepare for the worst.' I'll be going down to the hospital with my mother early in the morning, nothing like sitting in a waiting room to make a person sick to their heart and stomach.

He won't be coming home after the surgery if all goes well. His next step is a rehab 'home' where they take ventilator patients and hoping he heals, can work with him. How fucken lame that that's the best-case-scenario? Patients have gone home with trachs and ventilators but not without a full-time nurse and it's better initially if he's in a place with doctors and crap. I just hate the term 'home,' people go to 'homes' and never end up going home.

He's been running a low-grade fever for two days, possible remnant of the flu but of course no one knows anything for sure.

The oxygen is still at 80%, they don't seem to think it will ever go down to the 20% it needs to be. He's 100% sedated, I guess they want him as peaceful as possible before the surgery. Anesthesia is a big concern with every organ he needs to live seemingly shutting down.

If anyone reading this happens to pray, this would be a good time. I don't care who or what your God(s)/Goddess(es) are, just say a few words for the Chuck.

I hate this.