January 2009

Saturday the 3rd
The new year starts out with hope, after all what else do I have? Either my heart's getting weaker or the depression is getting deeper, because I can't stay awake for more than three hours at a time, which worries me. Except for finishing up my 2009 financial spreadsheet and my electronic calendar reminders, not much has happened in the first three days of the year.

I've searched all over the place and can't find my car registration. I have a feeling it was in the clear plastic bag that the plates came in, and when I had my oil changed at the dealership, it might have been discarded.

I'd intended to get out to Wal-Mart at first light, but just couldn't get moving. I still don't have a duplicate Medicare card, so I'm thinking of just taking in all the paperwork. I've resolved to do three tests a day on my blood sugar and to take all my prescriptions full strength. After doing an inventory for the spreadsheet, I've got about an extra month on most of my pills in case Disability, GB, or Medicare cut off the prescription help.

For that I'll need test strips, the most expensive part of the whole problem. That's why they give the testers away free, they make their profits on the test strips.

My state of mind is sort of an emotionless numb. Dr. Mind's back in town this Wednesday. With the exam that GB insists I have that morning, it's going to be tough getting from one appointment to her.

I have a feeling I've got a heart clinic appointment this Monday too...

I went out to Wal-Mart for supplies and left thank you notes for my neighbors D and Vicki for their Christmas cards. My damned car alarm went on strike again, and unfortunately it's years out of warranty. Fortunately when it does, it won't let me or anyone else in, rather than just going dead. It's a long and annoying process of turning my key to the "on" position, pressing and holding the secret button and then waiting for three chirps, then hitting all the buttons, one at a time and hoping for the best. Of course to get in to do this entails setting off the alarm. I was surprised to watch everyone in the parking lot at WM just keep walking on by as if nothing were happening with my alarm going off.

Today's mail, I swear I don't know where I get the strength...

First I owed Social Security for some clerical error $2,424
Then the last week of December I owed them $2,900

Back a couple of months ago I got a letter saying my Disability check would be increased to $484. A few weeks later it dropped to $464, then Medicaid said I made too much on what I'm getting from workman's comp, so they're charging me about $100 a month for medicare premiums and my check dropped to $384. Now they're saying they're taking more money out for what I owe them and my checks are dropping to $347.

GB in the meantime seems to insist that I go to their doctor's appointments that are on the same days as the preliminary tests for my heart surgery because I was stupid enough to e-mail them the dates of my exams or they'll stop my checks.

I am so close to swallowing all of my pills and saying to hell with it...


Monday the 5th
I was determined to get to Social Security today, and had another mental coma. I started sorting letters since October (none had the same amount of my checks or how much I owed them) in fact I can't even understand why I owe them. Anyway I started at 8AM and after about an hour I decided to take a break and play a game of chess on my computer, and looked up and it was after 2PM.

I don't know what I did during those last hours, but I know it's like the depression I had in 2005 where I'd sit on the side of my bed and stare at the wall for hours and think only 10 minutes had gone by.

I tried calling Dr. Mind but she was with a client. I got my federal tax books and don't know if I'm even supposed to file a return. The confusing letters just from Disability are over an inch thick.

Dr. Mind called me this evening and I told her about the latest news; she said to bring all of my paperwork with me to our session on Wednesday and she'd try to work it out into something understandable.


Tuesday the 6th
It's starting again; I didn't wake up until 6PM today. The worst part is trying to keep my prescriptions on schedule as to when I'm supposed to take them. I'm just now taking this morning's doses and unless I space them right, I'll be up till 4 tonight.


Wednesday the 7th
I went to the first half of the process to keep my workman's comp checks re-certified. I actually made it to the designated doctor's office at 20 after for my 9:30AM appointment, only to find that they'd put the wrong time on my appointment letter and I had to sit there in the waiting room for an hour and a half before they'd see me. The office turned out to be directly above the doctor's office that'll be doing my heart.

I got some cranky old man who looked at the x-rays of my foot and then ordered x-rays of my knee. I have a bad feeling about this. It's obvious that my knee is over 20 degrees out of alignment, but he could say that it can't be fixed. After all, he's being paid by the company that's trying to cut me off from my checks and financial help.

I got to Dr. Mind's office on time (barely) and couldn't find a parking slot. Wandered the offices to try to buy quarters for the parking meter, and wound up calling her up and having her come down with some. The parking guys told me that the center island meters were good for an hour, but the notices still said half an hour, because the work order hadn't been filled for the new ones... so I put a quarter in 15 min, 2nd quarter in 30min. 3rd quarter... 30min. I had no choice, our sessions last an hour so I had to gamble.

We went over all the Social Security papers I'd collected and she was aghast. The only choice is for both of us to go there together Friday after next, but I have a GB med exam to extend my benefits another 30 days on that day.

I just can't get a break.

At least I didn't get a parking ticket.


Thursday the 8th
I went on line this morning to try to complete one of the most depressing chores that anyone can do. Completing a will update and a Living will, in case I wind up in a coma the rest of my life.

Of my most cherished possessions there's my tapestry, my piano and my desk. More and more I'm beginning to believe that I'll just go out like a burnt out light bulb... so why bother? I won't feel the passing of time/eons after I'm gone.

I just got a glimpse of my calendar. I have to go to Grant Hospital tomorrow for pre-admission testing for my triple bypass. It's now a reality instead of a concept... I could be dead in a matter of weeks.


Friday the 9th
I made it to my preliminary exam for my heart operation today. They're wavering between the 23rd and the 25th because of scheduling. Everyone's bitching I don't send them a date, and I don't even know it for sure myself now.

For the first time I had to piss into a cup!

They took an EKG and sent me on my way. Monday, I have to report to the Heart Failure clinic for some blood work. I've got so many doctors now I need a score card to keep track of them. Went to Wal-Mart and picked up enough supplies to last for two weeks, I don't want to leave food to rot in the fridge like last time.

I've become less and less afraid of death, probably because I no longer believe in heaven or hell. That neither gives me comfort nor concern. Living alone does that. Maybe I'm hoping that I'll die on the operating table by someone else's hand, as I'm too much of a coward to do it myself.

I still haven't written a will, I've got less than a couple of weeks now, I better get busy. On the other hand it'd be a fitting revenge to let them fight over my stuff against the State of Ohio when they try to recoup my burial costs.


Monday the 12th
Went to the Heart Failure clinic at the hospital today. They did a blood work up on me and I'm still low on potassium, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHRGH! I hate those damned pills, they're huge and hard to swallow, so you have no choice but to let the damned things partially melt in your mouth before washing it down. Then you burp the rest of the day tasting of hard boiled eggs.

With all the cheap food I've been forced to buy lately, I was worried about my sodium (salt) content, but they said it was fine. She said it was most likely that my recovery time would be three weeks, but that I'd only be in the hospital a few days... after heart surgery??????

Come to think of if; my mom was only in the hospital a couple of days after she had surgery on hers too.

So much for saving about three weeks of prescriptions and food... damn it. My only hope now is to find a way to straighten out the whole social security/disability/medicaid mess.

I got a comment on the photo of a TR9 prototype I used to own that reminded me of the good old days when I had lots of money, confidence, and a body to go with them.

I spent the rest of the day sleeping, knocking around the house, or watching TV.

I've been tempted to go to Big Boy's and eat a "death by chocolate"-which is chocolate cake, with a wedge of vanilla ice cream in the middle, covered with hot fudge, whipped cream and a cherry. Being diabetic, it really would be death. God I can't remember the last time I ate a cherry! (No jokes from the peanut gallery please)


Wednesday the 14th
I saw Dr. Mind today, gads the roads were a nightmare, though I must admit I've missed seeing giant fluffy snowflakes. The trouble is; let a billion of them come together, through the majestic force of nature... they can screw up a whole city!

Dr. Mind's meeting me at the social security place at 9:30AM Friday morning, so I'll have to get busy assembling papers. (groan)

Had some chest pain for which I did a nitro glycerin tab, which helped. Stopped at the store and picked up some supplies and came home and slept... I do a lot of that lately.


Friday the 16th
I went to the social security office with Dr. Mind this morning. We've got a windchill factor of -25 this morning, the car wouldn't remote start, so I had to go down and babysit it fluttering the gas pedal to keep it running. At least it started.

I thought my hands were going to freeze to the steering wheel. I've got about 20 pages of some kind of waiver request to comprehend and fill out. Dr. Mind seemed to think there was reason to be optimistic, but I've got my doubts... we'll see.

I've got a 2:45 appointment at WorkHealth this afternoon.

I just found out that GB (as feared) didn't direct deposit my workman's comp check into my checking. Unfuckinbelievable.


Saturday the 17th
I woke up around 8 this morning with really bad chest pain, and burping up what tasted like hard-boiled eggs again. After about half an hour of moving around, I resorted to a nitro glycerin tab and at 9 I felt better.

I checked my checking account and BC deposited my regular Friday check today, but it's pending and I can't touch it until the 20th... bastards.

My chest is still really tight and tender to the touch. Hopefully I'll make it through to Friday. Over at BC, JOM is now going by H&C? I'm not going to leave a legacy of good articles only to have the son-of-a-bitch leave his shit derogatory remarks on them, so I may just publish them here exclusively instead. He seems to have gained some fans, that are encouraging him on, fortunately he's being an asshole on someone elses work.

Tons of snow keeps falling and it was -26 last night. My electric bill will probably to $160-200. definitely not what I need.

Saturdays are usually slow days for me, I hope this one stays that way.

I got drowsy and felt weak so I went back to bed, and woke up laying in my own diaheria. I'm so close to giving up. I cleaned it the best I could with disinfectant and then dumped alcohol all over it. Went to wal-mart and bought a new blanket and some laundry soap. The bedroom smells like shit and disinfectant. I don't think I have the strength to try to flip the huge mattress, but I guess I have no choice.

I'll be busy down in the laundry room. I've taught myself lately to not ask how this can possibly get worse.


Sunday the 18th
I woke up late this morning and everything was in total silence. I was shivering, felt cold, and my feet were freezing. My skin was cold to the touch and I thought that maybe I was dead it was that surreal.

That's when I realized the power was out. I got up and put on a sweat suit and socks and went back to bed. Mischief came in really handy today as her normal body temperature is around 102.

The power stayed out until around 3 this afternoon.

Just what I need, to come down with pneumonia just before a heart operation. I'm feeling weaker and weaker and out of breath by the day.

I watched them pull the A320 out of the murky water off of Battery Park in New York City and was astonished at how the upper half of the jet looks brand new and the lower half was almost completely shredded.

I was going to watch the Lincoln Memorial concert for Obama, but the power failure took out our building's HBO converter, so I missed it.

I checked the news on line and found the actor that played the robot in the original "Lost in Space" (Danger, Danger Will Robinson!" died of congestive heart failure. I've had two bouts with congestive heart failure myself and survived both of them. In my current state of mind I don't know if that's a good thing or not.

I got really tired around 3PM and went back to bed. Woke up at 9:30PM.

Typical day.



Monday the 19th
Started out the day with a call from Grant Hospital, the operation's set for the 23rd instead of the 25th. I was shaking my head that they were doing surgery on a Sunday, but I guess their schedule was packed. I have to report at 5:30 AM. Gads....

Tomorrow's inauguration day. A day that'll bring joy and completion to a lot of people's lives... but not mine. Oh don't get me wrong, I voted for him and supported him, but I look at tomorrow as a missed personal opportunity.

I have two siblings who to the best of my knowledge, haven't even told their grown children that our grandfather on my father's side was black.

I've always been proud of my racial heritage, (which has gotten me into trouble a few times.) So why would I regret tomorrow? If only I still had the financial means, if I had the mental strength, I'd be there in Washington D.C. I'd be there, with my eyes closed summoning the spirits of my late father and grandfather, and when I knew that they were there with me, I'd open my eyes and focus my ears and let them be overwhelmed by the swearing in of the first black president. I'd let their pride wash over me and knew that they were happy.

Of course my father maybe a bit less than his father, but that's because Dad was a stone-cold steel-willed Republican, who would probably only grudgingly acknowledge the pride he felt at that milestone, and maybe point out (aw he's only half-black anyway) to which I'd have to remind him that so was he.

I'll be watching it on TV instead, but maybe they'll join me here.

It's a strange thought, considering my feelings of late; that death is merely a cessation of existence, no heaven, no hell, no after-life. You are then you aren't.

I've only felt the spirits of two people, my late cousin Billy and Michael Plake. It's like a battle in my head as to which concept of after death is correct. I guess for most people it's a matter of which gives you more comfort.

Right now neither fits the bill for me... Unfortunately.


Tuesday the 20th
Spent the day watching the inauguration festivities. It'd figure that Bush would pick a chief justice who can't even keep the oath of office straight in his head, or at least have the presence of mind to bring a "cue card"

I fear I've gotten a cold or some congestion from the power being off, just what I need this close to surgery.

B, I my sister that calls me every morning on her way to work hasn't called in almost a week, so I called her. It turns out she's having trouble with her cell phone company and only just get it straightened out so she can make calls. I was worried.

Heart surgery is coming up now in a matter of days. It's getting harder to realize that I might only have a scant week or so to live.

Knowing my condition having read my comments on BC's website wherever I go, JOM/H&C said I should try to find a Jehovah's witness on Friday. I was so pissed I nearly quit BC and deleted my profile... but at the last minute decided not to burn that bridge.


Wednesday the 21st
Started out the day at Dr. Mind's. Since I don't have an "official" will, she asked me to write out for her what I wanted done with me, and my stuff if I didn't survive the surgery on my heart. My god that was depressing. She went over the Disability forms with me, so after I mail them tomorrow maybe something good will happen for a change.

I was waiting at the corner of 10th and High and had a flashback of my attackers running towards the car threatening to shoot me through my window if I didn't unlock the door, it was so real I almost ran the light.

I went to Wal-Mart today to pick up my prescriptions and instead of it coming to about $25 with my co-pays she asked for over $135. It turns out that while they appeal my case they shut off part of Medicare part D. It's ridiculous, they cover all my diabetes supplies EXCEPT the test strips! I could afford everything if they weren't trying to charge me for the diabetes test strips at full price... so I got everything but. This means that once I get back from the hospital, I'll have to guess at my Lantus insulin dosages.

I've got to go see GBs psychiatrist tomorrow to confirm that I'm really stressed out. I'll prove that easily enough; after I e-mailed them my surgery was on the 23rd, they heartlessly scheduled the appointment for the 22nd-tomorrow. No amount of explaining is going to convince me that's not a coincidence.

I'm getting weaker and weaker to the point that if I bend over to pick up something off the floor I get dizzy, and if I go from the living room to the dining room I get winded, panting for breath.

There are times when I hope I don't survive the operation day after tomorrow...


Thursday the 22nd
Tom came by and took my father's hard drive. I'd reformatted the unit five times, ran a strong magnet over it and then baked it in the oven. The place smells like burnt plastic. My family will probably hate me for it, but all of the hatred, and terrible things he revealed about them from within his twisted mind is now gone forever, and now it's only my burden to carry.

My family would be at each other's throats if they'd had access to it. I think my father left it to me because he knew how much it'd torture me, and the effect it'd have on completely destroying any relationships I had left with them.

I got a call from my good friend Teresa today and she will indeed come over and check on Mischief for me while I'm in the hospital-god love her. She pointed out an aspect of this heart operation I hadn't considered; the chest is completely covered with muscle which has to be cut through in order to get to the ribs and heart. Not only do my heart and ribs have to heal, but my muscles have to knit back together, and I'll probably be very sore for a long time afterward.

That's going to be rough to survive. It's possible that I may have to go to a nursing home or something to recover for a while.

Anyway, she took a lot off my mind that Mischief will be okay.

I spent two hours at the psychiatrist hired by GB today, I swear the first hour was covered asking me questions about what date this or that was operated on and he'd jot them down on a legal pad, and I kept pointing out that he had all that info in the sheet I'd just handed him... it was like he didn't care and that his diagnosis was a foregone conclusion.

Every time I tried to talk about the ordeal I was going through, he'd interupt with another question about which doctor worked on my foot or ankle or arm. What seemed like an hour went by like that.

My last supper will be home made submarine sandwiches on wheat rolls.

Should this be my last entry, it's been fun... It could take me a long time to recover, and get back to this.