Since I was unconscious most of February, I'll have to reconstruct it at a later day... Sorry
=========================================
February highlights to come:
~Triple bypass heart surgery
~Nightmare physical rehab facility
~LOW Blood sugars between 51-60
~Infection-sent to E.R.-removal of over 900 CCs of fluid off of left lung.
~Return to hospital after nicked blood vessel explodes in my chest, I lose 1 1/2 times my normal blood content, doctors have to literally slice me open from my shoulder blades to my left side to drain blood out of my chest.
~I die twice in E.R. requiring electricity and CPR
~Drug induced coma for three days
~Hospital stay from Jan 23-Mar 4
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About a week and a half after the triple bypass surgery on my heart on Jan 23rd, the fluids that were packed into my body cavities began to build up. I was rushed to the hospital again from the physical rehab facility, and a drain was put in my back so that the doctors could take over 900cc of fluid off of my left lung
Unbeknownst to me or anyone else, they nicked a blood vessel with the drain. At first the effects were unnoticed, but kept growing and I was sent home over the weekend to continue recovering.
=================
Mon Feb 16: Morning. I have no first-hand memory of this at all and this was told to me 2nd hand by nurses, emergency squad personnel and my friend Teresa over the last two weeks.
I woke up early Monday 16th with the feeling that something wasn't quite right, but I couldn't name it. I felt dizzy and didn't trust myself to drive to the emergency room, so I called my friend Teresa and asked how soon she could get here.
She said I sounded terrible and raced the 911/squad here(it was a tie-she let them in my apartment). They say I was incoherent when they arrived and would only respond to them through her.
Within minutes of arrival at Grant Hospital I went "Code Blue(?)".
A blood vessel had split and blood began pumping rapidly into my chest cavity instead of my circulatory system. I'm told I didn't lose units, or pints, I lost gallons, or as they put it 1-1/2 my normal blood content and I died (their words), requiring CPR and they had to pull a heart surgeon out of another operation in order to save my life. Within half an hour another was summoned and they resorted to cutting me open from my spine between my shoulder blades to a point between my left armpit and my hip in order to allow the fluid to drain quickly from my torso.
Right after repairing the torn artery, another ruptured, requiring more blood, this one was worse and they told me I died again. Requiring CPR and the electric paddles to bring me back to life. In all, my blood content was replaced three times.
I spent 3 days in a coma in Intensive Care and eventually couldn't remember anything that happened for a week afterward, or my name etc, and I spent the rest in a private room unable to move without Morphine or Percocet.
I'm currently on pain meds, muscle relaxers and heart pressure prescriptions. It's going to be a while before I can update this, so I wanted you all to know I was
alright (so to speak). The amount of fluid they added in order to stabilize my condition after three major operations added 45 pounds to me and I had to lose it before I could function, walk or even eat on my own. Last weekend through a drug called Lasix, I dropped 40 pounds and gained enough strength on my own in order to move and I've improved enough to come home.
I will not be answering the phone etc in order to regain what state of mind I had before this whole ordeal, but I'm glad all of you have sent so many e-mails of concern.
I'm going to be constantly assessed for brain damage because of the loss of blood and things are bound to be both hectic and confusing.
Please bear with me until I've recovered enough to respond...
Jet
Sunday March 8th
GB set the wheels in motion while I was in the hospital on the 17th of last month to cut off my workman's comp checks, but I'm just getting around to opening my mail. Same bullshit from them, they say my heart problems don't have anything to do with my original injuries. The original doctor they hired to take care of my knee won't declare me Maximum Medical Improvement, so they hired a different one to say it was, on the basis of only one brief examination.
It's preying on my mind that parts of my memory are missing, not only from the coma, but that afterward after I woke up, I couldn't remember what happened the previous day in intensive care. How do you remember what you lost? Could this be the very definition of losing my mind.
Flashbacks of the robbery/beating, though nearly five years ago, still had me waking up screaming in my hospital room, to the point of having them knock me out with sleep meds and morphine. My biggest fear is becoming addicted to them.
The only way I can function is on a pain medication, because my chest and ribcage have been ripped open so many times recently and they had to cut through muscle and bone to get to my heart. I found out that Wal-Mart won't have the pain prescription the hospital wrote until next Tuesday and it's killing me since Wednesday night in terms of mental stability and also lack of sleep now that I'm home. I tried calling other places to fill the prescription but their wait is even longer. It's apparently some kind of custom Morphine blend.
The doctors for the third time have tried to take me off of Lantus insulin, and onto something called Novolox 70-30 blend but I don't know how to do syringes yet as my Lantus comes in preloaded pen cartridges where I just dial up the dose and stick on a tiny needle, inject, and it's done.
So by my request, they prescribed the new insulin in pens, but Wal-Mart was all out of it, so I got little bottles... again, but no needles... again, with no scrip for them so I have to wait until Monday to get it straightened out.
All I can remember of that day weeks ago in February is that Monday morning, I didn't feel quite right, and then blink-Wednesday evening I was staring at a false ceiling and wondering how I got there. That means I was in a coma for 2 1/2 days and then woke up in the Intensive Care Unit. I'm worried that the massive loss of blood may have done some brain damage, but I'm not sure... maybe I'm just getting old.
I've had so much stripped away from me; all but a couple of my friends, my career both here and in California and Chicago, a lifestyle of carefree travel and finance. I smile that I had to work pizza delivery to shield my income the same kind of people that come after you when they've found you've won the lotto or something. Somehow I'm still surviving. I still have the penthouse that I've lived in for 22 years and the car I worked so hard to save because it's the first one I bought new, but I could lose what's left of my sanity if they cut off payments for Dr. Morrison at OSU and the Cymbalta prescription that's keeping me in an even keel.
Depression is setting in hard, I'm thinking of hoarding Cymbalta by cutting down to 60mg from 90 to make it last. Suicide is never from my thoughts, but they're overridden by another way to survive this, but I'm running out of strength both mental and physical.
I keep cursing myself by asking what can happen next that's worse than what I've already survived? Congestive heart failure, then a silent heart attack, then surgery to insert stents to keep my coronary arteries open, then a triple bypass, then a blood vessel explodes twice in my chest and I literally die twice in one day.
No court date's been set yet for Workman's Comp to take away most of my income, but the attorney I didn't know I had, assures me it'll be soon. I consulted him on a "favor for a friend" basis in 2007 just to see about Disability, and GB is sending their communications through him now. I told him I felt bad about not being able to pay him, (he's with one of the most prestigious law firms in Ohio), and he says not to worry for now.
A difficult task at best.
Today (Sunday) I have random fluid filling my mouth as if I'm close to throwing up, but after I painfully rush to the toilet, nothing comes up, not even dry heaves. My leg at the graft site appears infected, but not swollen, so I'll leave it to professionals next week. Lack of pain killers and sleep leave me barely able to function mentally. I've still got diarrhea and the water pills are draining the fluids off my legs.
Now if I had something to stem the waves of hopelessness that wash over me constantly...
Monday March 9, 2009
Woke up feeling weak, but carried on anyway, there’s so much to do that I should’ve done yesterday.
I took a blood reading and it was 100; while that’s exactly where it should be, my body’s used to 170-224 so I feel weak at “normal”.
I set to work and called Wal-Mart, but my pain meds haven’t come in yet; God how much more of this can I endure? They asked me to call back in an hour.
I called Dr. Knee’s office and his workman’s comp nurse all but agreed with GB that they shouldn’t be paying me if the heart problems weren’t part of the original injury. She wouldn’t contact the lawyer’s offices, and said they had to contact her. She said that they could reactivate the claim from her office when I’m well enough to have the operation though.
It means I’ve got to live on another $300 or more until June or July before Dr. Heart-2 will sign off on my getting the knee worked on. With a possible/probable rent increase in July and god knows what else. I’m finding it so hard to keep fighting.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
I went on line and paid as many bills as I could. If I don’t get the GB check this Friday I won’t have enough for April rent, or the car payment afterward.
I called Wal-Mart pharmacy again this morning to see if the morphine came in, and they said it wouldn’t get there until Fed-Ex brought it at noon. At noon (to my relief) they called to say it came in.
There’s nothing I enjoy more than “cruising around with the top down,” but it’s been in the 20s and 30s with snow all over the place, so I was rather shocked when I tuned into the radar channel and they said the current temperature was 79 degrees!!! A new record for Columbus, and I didn’t care where I had to go, I just wanted/needed to be outside. I went out and power/coin washed the car, which at the time I thought was a good idea, but it turned out wasn’t-though I survived. I filled the gas tank and headed for Wal-Mart. All I could hope now was it was in the pill form and not the shots because I still didn’t have syringes. While there I picked up a week’s groceries.
Even though I have one of those two wheel grocery carts to bring things from the car, if it’s filled and heavy, it’s still very exhausting to use. I remember when I could carry all my grocery bags without even considering their weight. I’d heard that a hardware store on campus sold four-wheel carts and decided after Dr. Mind’s appointment tomorrow I’d go look for it before I ran out of money.
The mail was nothing to celebrate.
I’m starting to get collection agency notices already from hospital bills that either Medicare won’t cover or there’ve been paperwork fuck ups. The letter came that my lawyer filed for an extension on the hearing. With all the fluid they put in me during the emergency operations, I’m taking Lasix to get it back off again… but I still have an extra 20 pounds or so to go. Because of this, none of my clothes fit, and I face the prospect of going to a formal hearing in sweat pants and shirt, and offending some uppity judge because of my attire.
Wednesday March 11, 2009
The temperature dropped 45 degrees last night-forecast mean’s no more cruising around with the top down for a while.
No matter what pills I took I couldn’t fall asleep last night, and I wanted desperately to sleep through the chest and back pain. The morphine seemed to work less than the Percocet. Around five in the morning, I had to get up and set the clock/radio for fear of missing my noon appointment. I woke up at 10:30AM and made up a shopping list. Yesterday’s unopened mail revealed a bill for Dr. Mind’s services, which means GB has cut me off. I immediately called Family Pharmacy only to discover that GB had also cut me off from my Cymbalta “cold turkey” again. For once I was prepared for that, as last time I when on a rage rampage and trashed my penthouse from end to end, that it still hasn’t recovered from.
It dawned on me that with all the hospital releases came prescriptions for all the drugs they’d been feeding me, and that one of them just might be Cymbalta. If that’s true, maybe I can get Medicare to pay for it.
I cut myself from 90mg to 60, hoarding the 30 towards such an occasion. I think I have enough of the powerful antidepressant to last for another month or so, if I’m careful.
I got another letter from the lawyer including some “C84s” that’d extend my com checks for Dr. Mind to fill out, so I took them with me on my visit. It was a rough session, since we hadn’t had one in months. The hardest part is that she was informed (but I didn’t know) that GB ordered that I only have two more visits (this one included) this month, and only one next month. She said the bill was a mistake and took it from me, but I suspect she plans to pay it herself. She was only too happy to fill out her C84 and mail it to the lawyer.
The rest of the time was spent covering how alone I feel, how the depression is affecting my sleep again, and now the nightmares are back with a vengeance.
Afterward I set out for the hardware store hidden within the streets of the off-campus student houses east of OSU. After dozens of turns, I found it… it’d closed last week.
I gambled and went up to Meijer’s where I bought the original two-wheeled cart, and was surprised to find a four-wheeled one for $19.95!
When I came home from the hospital, I brought their menu with me and decided to recreate it as closely as I could. To that end, I bought a bunch of deli containers at the restaurant supply store across from Meijer’s, and portioned off cereal, food, salad, cantaloupe, red grapes, orange sherbet etc according to their guide.
When I got home, Dr. Mind called and said she mailed out the C84, but that hers wouldn’t carry as much weight as Dr. Knee’s. She said she talked to a woman at Workman’s Comp and that she was under the impression that as long as I was under appeal and the case was unresolved, that GB couldn’t cut off my checks. We’ll see Friday… which I just realized was the 13th.
Thursday March 12-Sunday March 15
This has begun to happen to me a lot under stress. I don't remember what I did yesterday, nor do I remember today. I just woke up from a daze and it's all gone; like the time I woke up in the hospital. Either I'm going crazy, have Alzheimer's, or I suffered brain damage after the emergency.
In any case, it's really fucking with my brain that I can't remember things that happened an hour ago. It's like the time I drove almost all the way to Indiana before I woke up and had no idea how I got there a few years ago.
Can you imagine the feeling that you can't trust your own mind?
Monday March 16th 2009
Well, I’m back to jotting things down so I’ll remember them. Nuff said.
I got a harassing phone call from some collection agency for over $1,700 from when I had the heart attack last August. I explained my situation. She said she’d stop the calls, but there was nothing she could do about the collection process.
Tuesday March 17th 2009
Got a nasty e-mail from my Pittsburgh sister today, implying that I'd somehow threatened her job with this blog. Considering that her name is never mentioned and we have no common friends, and that she's changed her name twice through marriage, somehow I don't see that happening.
It took me a while just to find the passage she was referring to, and then, it's too vague to even be concerned with. As usual, she's more concerned about how the world revolves around her, than to be in the least concerned that I died twice last month... which is why I still don't believe she could be that upset over not being able to come and see me in the hospital. More than likely she's just upset that my Aunt Margaret knows more about my life than she does.
I've decided not to deal with her anymore, it's just not worth the hassle or the drama. My one regret is not being able to talk to my mom, since she doesn't know how to use e-mail, my sister reads it first. I've tried calling her cell phone, but the last few times I've called, my sister either answered my mom's phone, or was near enough to be within earshot.
On the health front I've developed a lump about the diameter of a grapefruit that's sticking out about an inch, just beneath my left armpit and I may have to go back into the hospital about it, if I can't get an appointment with Dr. S, my general physician.
Wednesday March 18th 2009
Woke up this morning to sister B’s regular phone call and was in agony. The lump beneath my left armpit is getting more and more sore. It’s 7:15AM so I’m going to wait till 8 AM and see if I can get into Dr. S. If I can’t I’ll have to go wait in the emergency room.
I guess while I’m waiting I’ll update my medical history...
The hospital called and said Dr. E was in surgery. The outpatient clinic called and said my doctor will be out of town until next Monday but that it was something that my heart surgeon should see, I called Dr. S's office and he was in surgery at the hospital and Dr. D is unavailable too. I finally had to settle for an appointment with Dr. S tomorrow at 10AM.
I guess I'll just have to get stoned on Percocet or Morphine and try to endure. Before you envy me, junkies only use them to get high, but if you actually NEED the damned stuff, it does nothing special for you... except take away the pain...
Thankfully.
I called Teresa this morning in case I have to ask her to take care of the cat while I'm in the hospital, and as usual she said she would-God lover her. Spent the afternoon with Dr. Mind. It's really fucked up that this'll be my last visit with her until April 7th. The workman's comp hearing has been put back to 3PM April 1st. How do I convince myself that the following is coincodence???
A. My last authorized visit with Dr. Mind is April 1st
B. My doctor's follow up appointment with Dr. D/Heart is... you guessed it April 1st
And people wonder why I have a persecution complex?
I'm going to spend the rest of the day trying to mentally relax, somehow I don't see it happening.
I just got off the phone with my sister B on the west coast, she had wonderful news, when her co-workers and inmates at the jail found out that she was being laid off tomorrow, they fell all over themselves looking for a position there as a state worker and found one as a "gate keeper". It doesn't open up until a couple of months from now, so they went beserk on the computer and made up a resume so she could put in aplications for a temp job until it opens up and made her up around 15 copies.
It's so wonderful and I'm so happy for her, she'll get to stay where she is working with people she knows and who already love her. She said she was driven to tears when they went berserk trying to make sure there was some way she could stay there, and the prisoners went bonkers trying to show her how much they'd miss her. I've been really worried about how down she's been the closer to her being laid off tomorrow, but now that her state/sheriff friends at work are really pulling for her to stay, come hell or high water, I feel much better.
I envy her the love they have for her. I made her promise to call me and tell me about the party that's being planned for her last day tomorrow.
I just took two percocets and I think I'm getting stoned, it doesn't hurt to lift my left arm. All I have to do now is remember to set the clock/radio tonight for Dr. S's appointment...
Friday March 20th 2009
Dr. S-Heart told me yesterday that it was a grossly swollen muscle that'll take about two months to heal, nothing to be done but to suffer through it.
I got a phone call from Dr. Sk-MD this evening. He was apologizing that he couldn't see me earlier and I was really touched by his concern. I told him what Dr. S-Heart said and he said okay and that he would be in his office Monday afternoon.
Next Monday afternoon would've been my Workman's Comp hearing... (sigh)
Suddenly all energy left me around 7PM and I fell asleep and didn't wake till 1AM. This is really starting to get to me.
Sunday March 22nd 2009
Yesterday was hell, Today is still hell.
Yesterday, I was still in the throws of my coughing fits. They'd end up with my suddenly feeling like I was going to throw up, because my mouth would start watering really bad. Most of the time, I'd just swallow it (water) other's I'd run to the toilet only to lean over it and let it drip/drool into the toilet, but nothing else happened. These episodes would last about 30-45 seconds on the coughing, and as much as five minutes on the watering mouth.
On top of that, I'm burping up the most god-awful tasting gas that's a cross between mud, lawn grass and dog shit. I have a total loss of appetite, not a good idea for a diabetic. I can't tell if it's the burning sensation as food hits my gut, or the total lack of energy for getting up and preparing something-even something simple to eat.
This afternoon the coughing fits and burping continued, still dry, but now along with the feeling like I'm about to throw up, add on the feeling I'm near passing out.
I want to call 911, but another part of me says I can't afford the uncovered squad trips to the hospital, and yet another wants me to die (if that's what's going to happen) and be done with it.
I hate feeling like this. I used to be so carefree, now I can't reach backward in time and regain my health, my muscles, and my bank account, my multi-careers... So what's left for me to need to hang onto... I'm finding it harder and harder to find a reason, and the constantly increasing misery and hopelessness I fear will soon overtake what strength I have left.
I'm going to try to take a shower, empty the cat litter, and then drive out to Wal-mart for supplies... if I make it that far.
Update 1 2PM-I'd say I don't fucking believe it, but I do. I couldn't even muster the energy to go from the den to the shower. It looks like I'll colapse on the bed and sleep. I know the lack of energy is from not eating, but...
Oh to hell with it...
Update 2-6:45PM-Forced myself into the shower, it didn't help, though I feel cleaner. I changed the cat litter, and collapsed back in my chair in the den where I'm typing this.
For the first time in a long time the heaves started and I ran to the toilet, but of course they were dry... again. All I have to show for it is an aching chest. Time for a Percocet and maybe a Morphine together, because it hurts just to move.
Thursday March 26th 2009
Monday morning it all came to a head and I had to be rushed to the hospital again. The feeling like I was going to pass out, and the weakness was because I had two ulcers. I was leaking blood into my stomach and it wasn’t pretty.
Today, just to keep me reminded that I'm never safe, my left eye began hemoraging from diabetic rhetinopathy and has little drops of blood in it, and is completely blurred.
I just got home a few minutes ago from Wal-Mart and have to wait for my ulcer medication until tomorrow, so as usual it’ll take me a while to catch up.
Friday March 27th 2009
After them saying I'd have to come back today, the pharmacy told me today that my Nexium for my ulcer medicine wasn't covered by Medicare without "prior authorization" and I'd have to wait for a doctor's call to the pharmacy. It's just like the scrip for the morphine pills that I couldn't get filled for nearly a week only to find they didn't seem to do anything.
I've lost count of how many times I've screamed "I DON'T FUCKING BELIEVE THIS!"
They're making an ulcer patient wait for ulcer medication.
With the loss of 60 pounds in 4 weeks, I bought a belt today and discovered I fit in my medium jeans and my skinny jeans jacket... let's see how long that lasts.
Saturday March 28th 2009
Morning: Still no word on the Nexium prescription.
For some reason I’ve got the urge to buy flowers for my balcony, maybe some petunias and geraniums. I haven’t opened my curtains in possibly two years, much less sat out there and enjoyed the sun and view.
The stronger part says to keep fighting, to not give up, to shake my fist in the face of the fates that keep striking me down every time I get up from the last blow. An old friend named Gonzo once told me “fall down nine times-get up ten.” While nice, I’ve exceeded that limit.
I miss creating, writing, art etc because it used to be such an important part of my being. The explosion of self-confidence in the late 80s, when I began to travel and started making good money keeps haunting me. I’ve even begun to miss the fantasy cars I used to create for myself and others when I had the means and connections. One in particular: the twin of the Triumph TR9 that I got as an insurance settlement. On a whim, I decided to create a perfect duplicate of the car in case one got hit, complete with the tricked out Buick 3.8 litre V6 grand national, Borg-Warner 5-speed manual hooked up to a 69 Ford Torino 12-bolt 9-inch rear end. Stainless steel pipes, Edlebrock 4-barrel carb and intakes, custom Cyclone headers and acceleration that would press you into the seat... and of course those British Racing Green fog lamps.
I get nostalgic when I see an old movie just looking at cars in the background. The 50-70s were an era when you could just look at a car and be able to tell the make model and year at a glance. Sadly those days are gone.
My left eye is beginning to clear up ever so slowly. The debris from the hemorrhage is consolidating into big maroon clots that float in my line of sight like I’m living in a lava lamp. Yesterday I couldn’t make out anything but a blur around them, but now I’m beginning to make out vague shapes. Nothing that will give me three-dimensional vision, but it’s better than nothing. There’s always the possibly of one of the clots going to my heart, lungs or brain.
Somehow I don’t think God wants me to die that quickly. If not God, than he knows whose torturing me, and is doing nothing to stop it, so it’s the same as God himself sanctioning it.
Evening: Spent the afternoon playing phone tag between the pharmacy and the hospital and it looks like nothing's going to get done until Monday. Expected. How I didn't get an ulcer long before this I'll never know.
I'm still thinking about getting out tomorrow and shopping flower seedlings. Maybe I'll take Teresa with me. I guess that means I intend to hang around long enough to see them grow. Teresa's found a house that she really likes, maybe I'll offer her $300 a month to rent a room from her... yeah right. There's two things wrong with that, A. Friends should NEVER live together, B. I'd never be able to drag myself out of this penthouse after living here since 1987.
Sunday March 29th 2009
Spent the morning and afternoon redesigning my financial spreadsheet again, since my medications keep varying from week to week, I've decided to stop trying to track them, which gave me more screen space for tracking budget and cashflow problems.
Had a nice long talk with my Aunt Margaret today, she calls me every day to see how I'm doing, and it makes me feel less alone. Except for my sisters in Oregon, she's the only one in my family that accepts me for who I am and what I am without reservation or judgment. I just wish I lived closer to her. I used to have that same kind of relationship with my mother, but she lost her house and moved and it all fell apart like a soggy doughnut... alas.
Called Wal-Mart pharmacy and Medicare still hasn't authorized the prescription, so I've gone nearly 4 days without the ulcer medication.
Later today, I'm going to start gathering papers from files to try to fight GB trying to take my checks away... and do my laundry.
Monday March 30th 2009
I found out today that Chrysler's going under, possibly for the last time. If anything fucks up on the car, I'm screwed. According to my understanding, even though I'm the only registered owner of the car (according to the bank) Chrysler and the state of Ohio consider me the second owner because I purchased it from a lease technically making Hunting*** Bank the first owner. I've tried to explain that Hunging*** converted the lease to a loan, but according to the registration I'm the 2nd owner, which voids all original owner 75,000 mile coverages and the dealership claims I bought it "as is".
Fortunately nothing has gone wrong with it.
According to most news agencies this morning, the government now considers Chrysler a small enough company to let fail on its own without further emergency assistance. In other words they want to cut their losses and run. Apparently their only hope now is Fiat... joy!
Well I guess I could start bragging I drive an Italian sports convertible now?
I called Grant Hospital and Wal-Mart, they both say the problem is Medicare refusing to approve it because the prescription is for two Nexiums a day and they only want to pay for one. I tried to explain to them that my ulcer problem is so bad that it required hospitalization and warranted two pills a day, but now I haven’t been able to get them since last Thursday and they all say there’s nothing they can do.
I called Dr. D/heart and had to reschedule my appointment with him because it's the same day as the workman's comp hearing on Wednesday. Rescheduled for Monday the 6th.
My best friend Teresa came over this morning to check up on me, and it brightened my whole day having someone close by that cares so much. If I were straight I'd be madly in love with her. My whole attitude is so much better with her visit and the smiles she forced me to use, god love her.
While she was here, Wal-Mart called to say Medicare finally approved the prescription, and the problem wasn't what I thought it was. The approval was requested for 2 years!!!!!! of which they gave one!
I called the hospital and they said that considering the stress I was under, it's possible I'll need it for a year.
my god
My left eye is falling into the pattern the right eye did before I required surgery. The debris from the burst blood vessels is floating all over the place to the point of having to close it in order to read. For all intents and purposes I'm blind in my left eye. Even though it's gradually clearing, it's the maroon tint that's clearing, but the blurred vision is like a sheet of plastic wrap over a pair of glasses, just enought to make out shapes, but impossible to focus.
Tuesday March 31st 2009
JUST when I was silly enough to think things couldn't possibly get stranger, I checked the automatic payments on my checking accounts when I seemed to have about $250 more than I thought I should, only to discover that my electric bill for February was $25.37, My electric for March was $10.70, and my bill due the first of April is $10.79 !!!!????????!!!!
Either someone is helping on my electric, or the bills were estimates. (January was $126.90)... Now I know I spent most of January through March in the Hospital, but I did leave the heat on for the cat, and the fridge still ran etc.
The scary part is if they're only estimated readings, and they take an actual reading in April, I could be looking at a catch-up bill for over $300. If they take workman's comp away tomorrow, Social Security will raise their checks, but with them deducting the "overpayment" that no one will explain, I'll fall $300 a month short of my basic bills and expenses as it is, and that could be devastating.
Now the question is am I stupid enough to call the electric company; or just let sleeping dogs lay and hope for the best?
=========================================
February highlights to come:
~Triple bypass heart surgery
~Nightmare physical rehab facility
~LOW Blood sugars between 51-60
~Infection-sent to E.R.-removal of over 900 CCs of fluid off of left lung.
~Return to hospital after nicked blood vessel explodes in my chest, I lose 1 1/2 times my normal blood content, doctors have to literally slice me open from my shoulder blades to my left side to drain blood out of my chest.
~I die twice in E.R. requiring electricity and CPR
~Drug induced coma for three days
~Hospital stay from Jan 23-Mar 4
===========================================
About a week and a half after the triple bypass surgery on my heart on Jan 23rd, the fluids that were packed into my body cavities began to build up. I was rushed to the hospital again from the physical rehab facility, and a drain was put in my back so that the doctors could take over 900cc of fluid off of my left lung
Unbeknownst to me or anyone else, they nicked a blood vessel with the drain. At first the effects were unnoticed, but kept growing and I was sent home over the weekend to continue recovering.
=================
Mon Feb 16: Morning. I have no first-hand memory of this at all and this was told to me 2nd hand by nurses, emergency squad personnel and my friend Teresa over the last two weeks.
I woke up early Monday 16th with the feeling that something wasn't quite right, but I couldn't name it. I felt dizzy and didn't trust myself to drive to the emergency room, so I called my friend Teresa and asked how soon she could get here.
She said I sounded terrible and raced the 911/squad here(it was a tie-she let them in my apartment). They say I was incoherent when they arrived and would only respond to them through her.
Within minutes of arrival at Grant Hospital I went "Code Blue(?)".
A blood vessel had split and blood began pumping rapidly into my chest cavity instead of my circulatory system. I'm told I didn't lose units, or pints, I lost gallons, or as they put it 1-1/2 my normal blood content and I died (their words), requiring CPR and they had to pull a heart surgeon out of another operation in order to save my life. Within half an hour another was summoned and they resorted to cutting me open from my spine between my shoulder blades to a point between my left armpit and my hip in order to allow the fluid to drain quickly from my torso.
Right after repairing the torn artery, another ruptured, requiring more blood, this one was worse and they told me I died again. Requiring CPR and the electric paddles to bring me back to life. In all, my blood content was replaced three times.
I spent 3 days in a coma in Intensive Care and eventually couldn't remember anything that happened for a week afterward, or my name etc, and I spent the rest in a private room unable to move without Morphine or Percocet.
I'm currently on pain meds, muscle relaxers and heart pressure prescriptions. It's going to be a while before I can update this, so I wanted you all to know I was
alright (so to speak). The amount of fluid they added in order to stabilize my condition after three major operations added 45 pounds to me and I had to lose it before I could function, walk or even eat on my own. Last weekend through a drug called Lasix, I dropped 40 pounds and gained enough strength on my own in order to move and I've improved enough to come home.
I will not be answering the phone etc in order to regain what state of mind I had before this whole ordeal, but I'm glad all of you have sent so many e-mails of concern.
I'm going to be constantly assessed for brain damage because of the loss of blood and things are bound to be both hectic and confusing.
Please bear with me until I've recovered enough to respond...
Jet
Sunday March 8th
GB set the wheels in motion while I was in the hospital on the 17th of last month to cut off my workman's comp checks, but I'm just getting around to opening my mail. Same bullshit from them, they say my heart problems don't have anything to do with my original injuries. The original doctor they hired to take care of my knee won't declare me Maximum Medical Improvement, so they hired a different one to say it was, on the basis of only one brief examination.
It's preying on my mind that parts of my memory are missing, not only from the coma, but that afterward after I woke up, I couldn't remember what happened the previous day in intensive care. How do you remember what you lost? Could this be the very definition of losing my mind.
Flashbacks of the robbery/beating, though nearly five years ago, still had me waking up screaming in my hospital room, to the point of having them knock me out with sleep meds and morphine. My biggest fear is becoming addicted to them.
The only way I can function is on a pain medication, because my chest and ribcage have been ripped open so many times recently and they had to cut through muscle and bone to get to my heart. I found out that Wal-Mart won't have the pain prescription the hospital wrote until next Tuesday and it's killing me since Wednesday night in terms of mental stability and also lack of sleep now that I'm home. I tried calling other places to fill the prescription but their wait is even longer. It's apparently some kind of custom Morphine blend.
The doctors for the third time have tried to take me off of Lantus insulin, and onto something called Novolox 70-30 blend but I don't know how to do syringes yet as my Lantus comes in preloaded pen cartridges where I just dial up the dose and stick on a tiny needle, inject, and it's done.
So by my request, they prescribed the new insulin in pens, but Wal-Mart was all out of it, so I got little bottles... again, but no needles... again, with no scrip for them so I have to wait until Monday to get it straightened out.
All I can remember of that day weeks ago in February is that Monday morning, I didn't feel quite right, and then blink-Wednesday evening I was staring at a false ceiling and wondering how I got there. That means I was in a coma for 2 1/2 days and then woke up in the Intensive Care Unit. I'm worried that the massive loss of blood may have done some brain damage, but I'm not sure... maybe I'm just getting old.
I've had so much stripped away from me; all but a couple of my friends, my career both here and in California and Chicago, a lifestyle of carefree travel and finance. I smile that I had to work pizza delivery to shield my income the same kind of people that come after you when they've found you've won the lotto or something. Somehow I'm still surviving. I still have the penthouse that I've lived in for 22 years and the car I worked so hard to save because it's the first one I bought new, but I could lose what's left of my sanity if they cut off payments for Dr. Morrison at OSU and the Cymbalta prescription that's keeping me in an even keel.
Depression is setting in hard, I'm thinking of hoarding Cymbalta by cutting down to 60mg from 90 to make it last. Suicide is never from my thoughts, but they're overridden by another way to survive this, but I'm running out of strength both mental and physical.
I keep cursing myself by asking what can happen next that's worse than what I've already survived? Congestive heart failure, then a silent heart attack, then surgery to insert stents to keep my coronary arteries open, then a triple bypass, then a blood vessel explodes twice in my chest and I literally die twice in one day.
No court date's been set yet for Workman's Comp to take away most of my income, but the attorney I didn't know I had, assures me it'll be soon. I consulted him on a "favor for a friend" basis in 2007 just to see about Disability, and GB is sending their communications through him now. I told him I felt bad about not being able to pay him, (he's with one of the most prestigious law firms in Ohio), and he says not to worry for now.
A difficult task at best.
Today (Sunday) I have random fluid filling my mouth as if I'm close to throwing up, but after I painfully rush to the toilet, nothing comes up, not even dry heaves. My leg at the graft site appears infected, but not swollen, so I'll leave it to professionals next week. Lack of pain killers and sleep leave me barely able to function mentally. I've still got diarrhea and the water pills are draining the fluids off my legs.
Now if I had something to stem the waves of hopelessness that wash over me constantly...
Monday March 9, 2009
Woke up feeling weak, but carried on anyway, there’s so much to do that I should’ve done yesterday.
I took a blood reading and it was 100; while that’s exactly where it should be, my body’s used to 170-224 so I feel weak at “normal”.
I set to work and called Wal-Mart, but my pain meds haven’t come in yet; God how much more of this can I endure? They asked me to call back in an hour.
I called Dr. Knee’s office and his workman’s comp nurse all but agreed with GB that they shouldn’t be paying me if the heart problems weren’t part of the original injury. She wouldn’t contact the lawyer’s offices, and said they had to contact her. She said that they could reactivate the claim from her office when I’m well enough to have the operation though.
It means I’ve got to live on another $300 or more until June or July before Dr. Heart-2 will sign off on my getting the knee worked on. With a possible/probable rent increase in July and god knows what else. I’m finding it so hard to keep fighting.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
I went on line and paid as many bills as I could. If I don’t get the GB check this Friday I won’t have enough for April rent, or the car payment afterward.
I called Wal-Mart pharmacy again this morning to see if the morphine came in, and they said it wouldn’t get there until Fed-Ex brought it at noon. At noon (to my relief) they called to say it came in.
There’s nothing I enjoy more than “cruising around with the top down,” but it’s been in the 20s and 30s with snow all over the place, so I was rather shocked when I tuned into the radar channel and they said the current temperature was 79 degrees!!! A new record for Columbus, and I didn’t care where I had to go, I just wanted/needed to be outside. I went out and power/coin washed the car, which at the time I thought was a good idea, but it turned out wasn’t-though I survived. I filled the gas tank and headed for Wal-Mart. All I could hope now was it was in the pill form and not the shots because I still didn’t have syringes. While there I picked up a week’s groceries.
Even though I have one of those two wheel grocery carts to bring things from the car, if it’s filled and heavy, it’s still very exhausting to use. I remember when I could carry all my grocery bags without even considering their weight. I’d heard that a hardware store on campus sold four-wheel carts and decided after Dr. Mind’s appointment tomorrow I’d go look for it before I ran out of money.
The mail was nothing to celebrate.
I’m starting to get collection agency notices already from hospital bills that either Medicare won’t cover or there’ve been paperwork fuck ups. The letter came that my lawyer filed for an extension on the hearing. With all the fluid they put in me during the emergency operations, I’m taking Lasix to get it back off again… but I still have an extra 20 pounds or so to go. Because of this, none of my clothes fit, and I face the prospect of going to a formal hearing in sweat pants and shirt, and offending some uppity judge because of my attire.
Wednesday March 11, 2009
The temperature dropped 45 degrees last night-forecast mean’s no more cruising around with the top down for a while.
No matter what pills I took I couldn’t fall asleep last night, and I wanted desperately to sleep through the chest and back pain. The morphine seemed to work less than the Percocet. Around five in the morning, I had to get up and set the clock/radio for fear of missing my noon appointment. I woke up at 10:30AM and made up a shopping list. Yesterday’s unopened mail revealed a bill for Dr. Mind’s services, which means GB has cut me off. I immediately called Family Pharmacy only to discover that GB had also cut me off from my Cymbalta “cold turkey” again. For once I was prepared for that, as last time I when on a rage rampage and trashed my penthouse from end to end, that it still hasn’t recovered from.
It dawned on me that with all the hospital releases came prescriptions for all the drugs they’d been feeding me, and that one of them just might be Cymbalta. If that’s true, maybe I can get Medicare to pay for it.
I cut myself from 90mg to 60, hoarding the 30 towards such an occasion. I think I have enough of the powerful antidepressant to last for another month or so, if I’m careful.
I got another letter from the lawyer including some “C84s” that’d extend my com checks for Dr. Mind to fill out, so I took them with me on my visit. It was a rough session, since we hadn’t had one in months. The hardest part is that she was informed (but I didn’t know) that GB ordered that I only have two more visits (this one included) this month, and only one next month. She said the bill was a mistake and took it from me, but I suspect she plans to pay it herself. She was only too happy to fill out her C84 and mail it to the lawyer.
The rest of the time was spent covering how alone I feel, how the depression is affecting my sleep again, and now the nightmares are back with a vengeance.
Afterward I set out for the hardware store hidden within the streets of the off-campus student houses east of OSU. After dozens of turns, I found it… it’d closed last week.
I gambled and went up to Meijer’s where I bought the original two-wheeled cart, and was surprised to find a four-wheeled one for $19.95!
When I came home from the hospital, I brought their menu with me and decided to recreate it as closely as I could. To that end, I bought a bunch of deli containers at the restaurant supply store across from Meijer’s, and portioned off cereal, food, salad, cantaloupe, red grapes, orange sherbet etc according to their guide.
When I got home, Dr. Mind called and said she mailed out the C84, but that hers wouldn’t carry as much weight as Dr. Knee’s. She said she talked to a woman at Workman’s Comp and that she was under the impression that as long as I was under appeal and the case was unresolved, that GB couldn’t cut off my checks. We’ll see Friday… which I just realized was the 13th.
Thursday March 12-Sunday March 15
This has begun to happen to me a lot under stress. I don't remember what I did yesterday, nor do I remember today. I just woke up from a daze and it's all gone; like the time I woke up in the hospital. Either I'm going crazy, have Alzheimer's, or I suffered brain damage after the emergency.
In any case, it's really fucking with my brain that I can't remember things that happened an hour ago. It's like the time I drove almost all the way to Indiana before I woke up and had no idea how I got there a few years ago.
Can you imagine the feeling that you can't trust your own mind?
Monday March 16th 2009
Well, I’m back to jotting things down so I’ll remember them. Nuff said.
I got a harassing phone call from some collection agency for over $1,700 from when I had the heart attack last August. I explained my situation. She said she’d stop the calls, but there was nothing she could do about the collection process.
Tuesday March 17th 2009
Got a nasty e-mail from my Pittsburgh sister today, implying that I'd somehow threatened her job with this blog. Considering that her name is never mentioned and we have no common friends, and that she's changed her name twice through marriage, somehow I don't see that happening.
It took me a while just to find the passage she was referring to, and then, it's too vague to even be concerned with. As usual, she's more concerned about how the world revolves around her, than to be in the least concerned that I died twice last month... which is why I still don't believe she could be that upset over not being able to come and see me in the hospital. More than likely she's just upset that my Aunt Margaret knows more about my life than she does.
I've decided not to deal with her anymore, it's just not worth the hassle or the drama. My one regret is not being able to talk to my mom, since she doesn't know how to use e-mail, my sister reads it first. I've tried calling her cell phone, but the last few times I've called, my sister either answered my mom's phone, or was near enough to be within earshot.
On the health front I've developed a lump about the diameter of a grapefruit that's sticking out about an inch, just beneath my left armpit and I may have to go back into the hospital about it, if I can't get an appointment with Dr. S, my general physician.
Wednesday March 18th 2009
Woke up this morning to sister B’s regular phone call and was in agony. The lump beneath my left armpit is getting more and more sore. It’s 7:15AM so I’m going to wait till 8 AM and see if I can get into Dr. S. If I can’t I’ll have to go wait in the emergency room.
I guess while I’m waiting I’ll update my medical history...
The hospital called and said Dr. E was in surgery. The outpatient clinic called and said my doctor will be out of town until next Monday but that it was something that my heart surgeon should see, I called Dr. S's office and he was in surgery at the hospital and Dr. D is unavailable too. I finally had to settle for an appointment with Dr. S tomorrow at 10AM.
I guess I'll just have to get stoned on Percocet or Morphine and try to endure. Before you envy me, junkies only use them to get high, but if you actually NEED the damned stuff, it does nothing special for you... except take away the pain...
Thankfully.
I called Teresa this morning in case I have to ask her to take care of the cat while I'm in the hospital, and as usual she said she would-God lover her. Spent the afternoon with Dr. Mind. It's really fucked up that this'll be my last visit with her until April 7th. The workman's comp hearing has been put back to 3PM April 1st. How do I convince myself that the following is coincodence???
A. My last authorized visit with Dr. Mind is April 1st
B. My doctor's follow up appointment with Dr. D/Heart is... you guessed it April 1st
And people wonder why I have a persecution complex?
I'm going to spend the rest of the day trying to mentally relax, somehow I don't see it happening.
I just got off the phone with my sister B on the west coast, she had wonderful news, when her co-workers and inmates at the jail found out that she was being laid off tomorrow, they fell all over themselves looking for a position there as a state worker and found one as a "gate keeper". It doesn't open up until a couple of months from now, so they went beserk on the computer and made up a resume so she could put in aplications for a temp job until it opens up and made her up around 15 copies.
It's so wonderful and I'm so happy for her, she'll get to stay where she is working with people she knows and who already love her. She said she was driven to tears when they went berserk trying to make sure there was some way she could stay there, and the prisoners went bonkers trying to show her how much they'd miss her. I've been really worried about how down she's been the closer to her being laid off tomorrow, but now that her state/sheriff friends at work are really pulling for her to stay, come hell or high water, I feel much better.
I envy her the love they have for her. I made her promise to call me and tell me about the party that's being planned for her last day tomorrow.
I just took two percocets and I think I'm getting stoned, it doesn't hurt to lift my left arm. All I have to do now is remember to set the clock/radio tonight for Dr. S's appointment...
Friday March 20th 2009
Dr. S-Heart told me yesterday that it was a grossly swollen muscle that'll take about two months to heal, nothing to be done but to suffer through it.
I got a phone call from Dr. Sk-MD this evening. He was apologizing that he couldn't see me earlier and I was really touched by his concern. I told him what Dr. S-Heart said and he said okay and that he would be in his office Monday afternoon.
Next Monday afternoon would've been my Workman's Comp hearing... (sigh)
Suddenly all energy left me around 7PM and I fell asleep and didn't wake till 1AM. This is really starting to get to me.
Sunday March 22nd 2009
Yesterday was hell, Today is still hell.
Yesterday, I was still in the throws of my coughing fits. They'd end up with my suddenly feeling like I was going to throw up, because my mouth would start watering really bad. Most of the time, I'd just swallow it (water) other's I'd run to the toilet only to lean over it and let it drip/drool into the toilet, but nothing else happened. These episodes would last about 30-45 seconds on the coughing, and as much as five minutes on the watering mouth.
On top of that, I'm burping up the most god-awful tasting gas that's a cross between mud, lawn grass and dog shit. I have a total loss of appetite, not a good idea for a diabetic. I can't tell if it's the burning sensation as food hits my gut, or the total lack of energy for getting up and preparing something-even something simple to eat.
This afternoon the coughing fits and burping continued, still dry, but now along with the feeling like I'm about to throw up, add on the feeling I'm near passing out.
I want to call 911, but another part of me says I can't afford the uncovered squad trips to the hospital, and yet another wants me to die (if that's what's going to happen) and be done with it.
I hate feeling like this. I used to be so carefree, now I can't reach backward in time and regain my health, my muscles, and my bank account, my multi-careers... So what's left for me to need to hang onto... I'm finding it harder and harder to find a reason, and the constantly increasing misery and hopelessness I fear will soon overtake what strength I have left.
I'm going to try to take a shower, empty the cat litter, and then drive out to Wal-mart for supplies... if I make it that far.
Update 1 2PM-I'd say I don't fucking believe it, but I do. I couldn't even muster the energy to go from the den to the shower. It looks like I'll colapse on the bed and sleep. I know the lack of energy is from not eating, but...
Oh to hell with it...
Update 2-6:45PM-Forced myself into the shower, it didn't help, though I feel cleaner. I changed the cat litter, and collapsed back in my chair in the den where I'm typing this.
For the first time in a long time the heaves started and I ran to the toilet, but of course they were dry... again. All I have to show for it is an aching chest. Time for a Percocet and maybe a Morphine together, because it hurts just to move.
Thursday March 26th 2009
Monday morning it all came to a head and I had to be rushed to the hospital again. The feeling like I was going to pass out, and the weakness was because I had two ulcers. I was leaking blood into my stomach and it wasn’t pretty.
Today, just to keep me reminded that I'm never safe, my left eye began hemoraging from diabetic rhetinopathy and has little drops of blood in it, and is completely blurred.
I just got home a few minutes ago from Wal-Mart and have to wait for my ulcer medication until tomorrow, so as usual it’ll take me a while to catch up.
Friday March 27th 2009
After them saying I'd have to come back today, the pharmacy told me today that my Nexium for my ulcer medicine wasn't covered by Medicare without "prior authorization" and I'd have to wait for a doctor's call to the pharmacy. It's just like the scrip for the morphine pills that I couldn't get filled for nearly a week only to find they didn't seem to do anything.
I've lost count of how many times I've screamed "I DON'T FUCKING BELIEVE THIS!"
They're making an ulcer patient wait for ulcer medication.
With the loss of 60 pounds in 4 weeks, I bought a belt today and discovered I fit in my medium jeans and my skinny jeans jacket... let's see how long that lasts.
Saturday March 28th 2009
Morning: Still no word on the Nexium prescription.
For some reason I’ve got the urge to buy flowers for my balcony, maybe some petunias and geraniums. I haven’t opened my curtains in possibly two years, much less sat out there and enjoyed the sun and view.
The stronger part says to keep fighting, to not give up, to shake my fist in the face of the fates that keep striking me down every time I get up from the last blow. An old friend named Gonzo once told me “fall down nine times-get up ten.” While nice, I’ve exceeded that limit.
I miss creating, writing, art etc because it used to be such an important part of my being. The explosion of self-confidence in the late 80s, when I began to travel and started making good money keeps haunting me. I’ve even begun to miss the fantasy cars I used to create for myself and others when I had the means and connections. One in particular: the twin of the Triumph TR9 that I got as an insurance settlement. On a whim, I decided to create a perfect duplicate of the car in case one got hit, complete with the tricked out Buick 3.8 litre V6 grand national, Borg-Warner 5-speed manual hooked up to a 69 Ford Torino 12-bolt 9-inch rear end. Stainless steel pipes, Edlebrock 4-barrel carb and intakes, custom Cyclone headers and acceleration that would press you into the seat... and of course those British Racing Green fog lamps.
I get nostalgic when I see an old movie just looking at cars in the background. The 50-70s were an era when you could just look at a car and be able to tell the make model and year at a glance. Sadly those days are gone.
My left eye is beginning to clear up ever so slowly. The debris from the hemorrhage is consolidating into big maroon clots that float in my line of sight like I’m living in a lava lamp. Yesterday I couldn’t make out anything but a blur around them, but now I’m beginning to make out vague shapes. Nothing that will give me three-dimensional vision, but it’s better than nothing. There’s always the possibly of one of the clots going to my heart, lungs or brain.
Somehow I don’t think God wants me to die that quickly. If not God, than he knows whose torturing me, and is doing nothing to stop it, so it’s the same as God himself sanctioning it.
Evening: Spent the afternoon playing phone tag between the pharmacy and the hospital and it looks like nothing's going to get done until Monday. Expected. How I didn't get an ulcer long before this I'll never know.
I'm still thinking about getting out tomorrow and shopping flower seedlings. Maybe I'll take Teresa with me. I guess that means I intend to hang around long enough to see them grow. Teresa's found a house that she really likes, maybe I'll offer her $300 a month to rent a room from her... yeah right. There's two things wrong with that, A. Friends should NEVER live together, B. I'd never be able to drag myself out of this penthouse after living here since 1987.
Sunday March 29th 2009
Spent the morning and afternoon redesigning my financial spreadsheet again, since my medications keep varying from week to week, I've decided to stop trying to track them, which gave me more screen space for tracking budget and cashflow problems.
Had a nice long talk with my Aunt Margaret today, she calls me every day to see how I'm doing, and it makes me feel less alone. Except for my sisters in Oregon, she's the only one in my family that accepts me for who I am and what I am without reservation or judgment. I just wish I lived closer to her. I used to have that same kind of relationship with my mother, but she lost her house and moved and it all fell apart like a soggy doughnut... alas.
Called Wal-Mart pharmacy and Medicare still hasn't authorized the prescription, so I've gone nearly 4 days without the ulcer medication.
Later today, I'm going to start gathering papers from files to try to fight GB trying to take my checks away... and do my laundry.
Monday March 30th 2009
I found out today that Chrysler's going under, possibly for the last time. If anything fucks up on the car, I'm screwed. According to my understanding, even though I'm the only registered owner of the car (according to the bank) Chrysler and the state of Ohio consider me the second owner because I purchased it from a lease technically making Hunting*** Bank the first owner. I've tried to explain that Hunging*** converted the lease to a loan, but according to the registration I'm the 2nd owner, which voids all original owner 75,000 mile coverages and the dealership claims I bought it "as is".
Fortunately nothing has gone wrong with it.
According to most news agencies this morning, the government now considers Chrysler a small enough company to let fail on its own without further emergency assistance. In other words they want to cut their losses and run. Apparently their only hope now is Fiat... joy!
Well I guess I could start bragging I drive an Italian sports convertible now?
I called Grant Hospital and Wal-Mart, they both say the problem is Medicare refusing to approve it because the prescription is for two Nexiums a day and they only want to pay for one. I tried to explain to them that my ulcer problem is so bad that it required hospitalization and warranted two pills a day, but now I haven’t been able to get them since last Thursday and they all say there’s nothing they can do.
I called Dr. D/heart and had to reschedule my appointment with him because it's the same day as the workman's comp hearing on Wednesday. Rescheduled for Monday the 6th.
My best friend Teresa came over this morning to check up on me, and it brightened my whole day having someone close by that cares so much. If I were straight I'd be madly in love with her. My whole attitude is so much better with her visit and the smiles she forced me to use, god love her.
While she was here, Wal-Mart called to say Medicare finally approved the prescription, and the problem wasn't what I thought it was. The approval was requested for 2 years!!!!!! of which they gave one!
I called the hospital and they said that considering the stress I was under, it's possible I'll need it for a year.
my god
My left eye is falling into the pattern the right eye did before I required surgery. The debris from the burst blood vessels is floating all over the place to the point of having to close it in order to read. For all intents and purposes I'm blind in my left eye. Even though it's gradually clearing, it's the maroon tint that's clearing, but the blurred vision is like a sheet of plastic wrap over a pair of glasses, just enought to make out shapes, but impossible to focus.
Tuesday March 31st 2009
JUST when I was silly enough to think things couldn't possibly get stranger, I checked the automatic payments on my checking accounts when I seemed to have about $250 more than I thought I should, only to discover that my electric bill for February was $25.37, My electric for March was $10.70, and my bill due the first of April is $10.79 !!!!????????!!!!
Either someone is helping on my electric, or the bills were estimates. (January was $126.90)... Now I know I spent most of January through March in the Hospital, but I did leave the heat on for the cat, and the fridge still ran etc.
The scary part is if they're only estimated readings, and they take an actual reading in April, I could be looking at a catch-up bill for over $300. If they take workman's comp away tomorrow, Social Security will raise their checks, but with them deducting the "overpayment" that no one will explain, I'll fall $300 a month short of my basic bills and expenses as it is, and that could be devastating.
Now the question is am I stupid enough to call the electric company; or just let sleeping dogs lay and hope for the best?
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