I was in the process of commenting on Azron's Couchtalk blog when the call came from my stepmom. Every other time she drove him to the hospital. This time she had to call an ambulance. The night before during dinner he had suddenly started trembling and jerking. He couldn't feed himself, being unable to get the fork to his mouth. All efforts to help him were met with a burst of his anger. I suppose when you feel you've lost your dignity, your ability to be the man, that's all that's left. She tried to talk him into calling the doctor, doing something about his problem because obviously he wasn't feeling good. His response was to tell her she was "stupid" she didn't know what she was talking about. He ordered her to leave him be and when she tried to assist him, he swung his cane in her direction, he didn't hit her, but he tried.

They went to bed Wednesday night without ever speaking to each other because she was tired and no longer capable of arguing with him. When they rose the next morning, he couldn't walk with his cane without falling. She had the family hoosier pick him up and put him back in bed, and she called an ambulance, knowing that there was no way she would be able to get him into the car for the trip to the ER. He decided that he needed a glass of water, and again wouldn't allow any help. The trembling and jerking had started again, he refused help...again. It wound up on the bed. then he decided he needed to go to the bathroom. He used his walker and managed to get into the bathroom, but seemed to forget how to sit on the toilet. He stood there hitting the clothes hamper with his walker over and over, instead of backing away from it and sitting on the toilet. He threatened anyone who touched him. The ambulance personnel tried to help him, and he just kept flailing at them and screaming that he was to be left alone, he didn't want to go to the hospital.

Normally, when a patient refuses care, the ambulance personnel produce papers for them to sign stating that patient refused transport. The crew manning the ambulance were professional enough to know that he wasn't self directing and looked to my stepmom for the decision to transport. She gave it. He was angry and combative during the ride to the hospital. He calmed down upon arrival but wasn't very cooperative. I don't know the correct medical terminology for what happened, but his coherence level changed and he appeared not to understand questions or directions. His blood pressure and oxygen levels dropped and he became unresponsive. I kept telling them he has MRSA, they ignored me. Oxygen was administered, and the tests began. Bloodwork, X-rays, ultrasound and CT scan on hip and head. He was admitted to the ICU, attached to various and sundry pieces of equipment and we were allowed to see him, 2 at a time.

My stepmom and I went first. He didn't appear to know us. I reported that to the nurse, and we exchanged a few words. Like why are you working on someone with MRSA and you're not wearing gloves? This got me a visit from the Shift Supervisor who informed me that he had an infection. MRSA is an infection. She was very patient and pleasant with me, I was visibly upset. She questioned me as to how I knew he had MRSA? He was diagnosed with it his second stay in the hospital. Where is it, the nasal swab and oral swab was negative? It's in his leg. Her response was that they know nothing about that, there are numerous bacterial infections that affect the elderly in a different way than they would someone less feeble. She also stated that while MRSA is a serious problem it is common, and hospitals IGNORE it unless it's colonized. Which, by the way means it's making them sick. She did say they take precautions so others aren't infected. So, how did Dad get it on his first and only stay in the hospital if they are taking all these precautions? We don't seem to have an answer for that. We also don't have an answer for what part of 'he has MRSA and he is sick' didn't they understand?

Today, Dad has improved. He has been notified that the bone and plate in it are not infected. He has MRSA, in the skin of his leg. Not on the skin, in the skin. So, it's gown and glove time when we visit him. His thinking still isn't right. He gets angry when he can't remember a word, and he still can't process a complete thought from start to finish. He is all ready worried about the bills, which will give me the opportunity to point out something to him. I asked him how long was it that he wasn't feeling well before this happened? He refused to answer. I am going to need to find a way to impress upon him that he absolutely must remain active when he goes home. He has to build strength to assist his immune system. Another issue I'm going to have to address is that he needs to fully understand that when he isn't feeling well then he has to call the doctor immediately and follow instructions. If he would seek treatment earlier, he might be able to avoid being admitted to the hospital. He waits too long and is too sick to be treated at home. I understand that it's the worry about the bills that are creating the problem, but he's going to have to be made to understand that the bills won't be as high if he would accept that he must be more responsible for his own health. I can't address the issue yet, he's not fully cognizant. It will be a few days before he will be. Physial therapy has begun all ready, that will get the blood circulating and help his brain to get enough oxygen. In the meantime, I'm breathing a sigh of relief and mentally trying to prepare for the next round. There will be a next round. I know that, there will be a next round. I wish it wasn't going to be that way, but it is.

Visiting hours in the ICU are limited to certain times of the day. I will be there all afternoon and will allow my brothers and their families the 4 to 8 shift. I'm going to take some time for myself this evening and join you all for the music.

I just got back from the hospital where my Dad is again. He's in ICU and what will happen to him will not be known for the next 24 hours. He has another infection affecting his entire leg. He is confused, combatant, and lethargic. At the moment he is not considered self directing so we have had to make decisions today that he normally would make. Stepmom decided that she needed to sign a do not resuscitate order after getting all of our views on the matter. The offer of the DNR is a first for us. At no time in any prior hospitalization has this been mentioned.

He doesn't appear to know who we are, nor does he understand instructions and he has not had a stroke that we know of. He did know what month he was born in, but not the date or year. I also found it odd that he just kept repeating the 19. He would drop off to sleep and wake up periodically and just repeat...19.

As many of my readers know, my Mom died last year. She died on March 21. This is very hard on me. The ICU is just a few doors away from where Mom died and I have to walk by that room with it's closed door to get to the hallway to the ICU. If he makes it through the night I will be spending as much time as possible with him. I will be back when I can.

I am not one that suffers from seasonal effective disorder. I don't become depressed during the winter. This year has been no exception. Other than not being able to go where I want when I want on some days, I'm pretty much satisfied. I am secure in the knowledge that like most things, this too shall pass.

I'm in the mood for spring. I am still getting winter. It's getting old. Maybe I'm getting old, who knows? I'm looking forward to planting flowers and mowing lawn. I'm looking forward to some color, besides white, gray, and more white. White is the color of purity, and of death. My favorite shady tree is dying. Large portions of it's bark has peeled away. For all the years I've lived here, it and it's companion maple tree have shaded me from the harsh summer sun. That too has begun to die.

This winter was late, and hard on everything. The only positive aspect to it has been that with all the roof shoveling jobs Hubby got, we had more income than we usually do. We will survive this winter in better shape financially than normal. Still, I am ready for Spring. I am really ready for Spring.

After I posted yesterday I received my weekly call from my stepmom. The latest bill from the hospital for Dads last stay came in and it's high. I feel sorry for them, and wish I was able to financially assist but I can't. He still is not receiving his Workmans Compensation. Even with the compensation doctors statement that his prior existing condition was under control and did not contribute to his fall, he still is being left out in the cold. Medicare has paid their 80%, and Dad owes $21,000 for the remainder. Granted, Compensation will not be paying for the pancreatitis stay, nor for the gall bladder surgery, but they only account for one third of that total. He still has to have that plate removed so there would be another Compensated stay, if they will do the right thing. Otherwise medicare has to pay for that, at 80%, and he will have to add the total to what he all ready owes. According to state law there has to be a decision this month, by a judge, and they don't have notification of a court date and it's the 7th of the month.

My stepmom spends most of her time complaining to me about the unfairness of their situation. It is unfair, but if they had accepted the need for prior planning their financial situation would be better. Nothing was ever set aside for their care should an event happen where it was necessary to have it. That's why they both work. They were living with Social Security and their two jobs on upwards of $60,000 a year and they have nothing to show for it. Yes, they own their own home, but they still have to pay a mortgage and taxes on it. The original mortgage was paid off, but the second mortgage is still being paid. They don't own new cars, they don't take extended trips. When a new freezer and kitchen stove was necessary it was paid for by us kids. The furniture they have was given to them by my youngest brother when he and his girlfriend bought new furniture for themselves and this was years ago.

During their entire life they have never managed to save a dime. Nor can they account for where their income went. I'm assuming they spent it on entertainment of one kind or other, and they probably had fun doing it. Only now they are at the stage of life where it costs them $600 a month for medications under Medicare Part D, and I'm hearing that "they can't aford it". A few years ago, their insurance agent tried to talk them into a Medicare supplemental insurance plan. They couldn't afford it. I tried to keep them informed about the benefit to them of such a policy. Mom had one. It cost her $201 a month. She never had to pay a dime of any of her hospital stays, and she was there frequently every winter. They couldn't afford it because they needed their money for other things....like fun. Dinner out every week at least twice. Take out food from the local pizzeria once a week. Three trips a week to the Casino locally, plus one a month to Connecticut or Niagara Falls. When I suggested they look into the supplemental insurance plans I didn't know what I was talking about. They didn't need one, they couldn't afford it.

Everytime I talk to her lately I keep hearing the chorus of the song "Live For Today" in my head. They spent a lifetime of doing just that, and now they are reaping the benefits of that attitude. Yesterday she said to me that you spend your life working for nothing. You end up looking at the loss of everything you own and she doesn't think that's fair. I answered by saying that when you want a decent future you must prepare for it. You can't just float through life without preparation for certain eventualities. If you do, then expect to pay the price. They made sufficient money with their joint income that once the kids were grown and out they could have saved ample money in an IRA or other type of investment. They didn't invest in their own future, and now they are paying the price. They had a lifetime of fun, I don't think it was worth it.

Everything I'm thinking about as a topic for a post just doesn't want to flow. Of course, I'm thinking I want to do a serious post, and I'm in a silly mood. It's so cold here that my windows have frosted over thickly from top to bottom and we can't see out of them. Official wind chill factor this morning for my area is -29. Yes, that is a minus sign before the 2. Total snowfall accumulation from yesterday's little storm is around 10 inches. So, I'm thinking today would be a good day to start my Spring Cleaning. The sun's out, the sky's blue, it's -29, doesn't everyone start their spring cleaning under those circumstances? I feel like dancing, singing badly and doing some
Spring cleaning. I don't believe I'm crazy. I do believe I'm not awake yet, not having had my second cup of coffee. This babbling mood I'm in is a residual affect from the dream I had last night, or more correctly, early this morning. I dreamt I won the Mega Million Jackpot, which is really strange because I don't buy lottery tickets. It's not that I have anything against getting rich quick, it's just that I believe I would have a better chance of getting struck by lightening...twice.

Before his accident, Dad and my Stepmom used to go to the casino 3 times a week. They would place a $20 limit on their spending. Stepmom usually played until she broke even, which if you are careful is fairly easy. She would win early on and then start losing, once she was down to her original investment, she would quit. Dad, on the other hand would lose his $20. After all, he could get back up to the $300 he won, if only he kept trying. About every 10 months I'd get a call about Stepmom's Big Win Last Nght At The Casino. She would win between $1300 to $1500, She would do this just about every 10 months. I understand, because I've been told, that Math is a whole lot different now than it was when I was in school. We can thank my 14 year old granddaughter for educating me here. When I went to school, apparently I rode dinosaurs to get there, but that isn't really germane to my topic here, now is it? What is germane, is that $60 a week for 10 months amounts to $2400 dollars. At least it did when I went to school. so, forgive me for not understanding what part of losing $2400 to "win" $1300 to $1500 is a gain.

They don't see that they are really losing money. The thrill of the "win" overshadows the reality of the loss. The Turning Stone Casino has been open for 6 years. They lost $900 to $1100 annually for that entire time, not counting the money spent on scratch-offs, Lotto, and Mega Million drawings. Had they left that money in their accounts at the bank they would have close to $9000 to tide them over until the Workmans Comp case for Dad got settled. I grant you it's not a lot of money, but it would have been better than what they have now. The reality of our lives is that we fritter money away foolishly and don't really see where it went. We just know it's gone. the only one getting rich quick here is the "house". In this case it would be the Oneida Indians and the state of NY.


Lets get back to my dream. I won the Mega Million Jackpot, got my name and picture in the paper. People started calling me that I haven't heard from in years, maybe even decades. Some of them I hadn't heard of before. I was everyones "new" best friend. I bought an expensive brand new house, all new equipment for Hubby's business. I bought myself a really hot little sports car, a boat and a summer home in the Adirondacks. I gave away a few million to charities, another few million to the family. I was just about to leave on a vacation to Ireland when.....I woke up. It was all a dream. Dreams are good, the trouble lies in the desire to try to make a dream a reality. For some of us that reality can become a nightmare. As the advertising for the lottery drawing says, "Hey, you never know". That's right, you might be a winner, or you might get struck by lightening....twice.