Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Twelve Steps

That's what he walked today.

Unassisted.

The nurse was next to him the whole time, ready to catch him. But he made it on his own.

He got bathed and changed and had his tubes pulled. My, that sounds naughty! Let me rephrase: The only plastic tubing still stuck in him is his chest drain. That one will be there for a while.

I talked to him three times. The nice people there moved him into a room with good cell phone reception, just so he could talk to me.

Between all that activity, and getting a bit barfy from the pain meds, my poor guy is all wore out.

But I am so proud of him.

He's doing great. They didn't expect him to be able to walk that much by himself.

I've been hanging by the phones all day. Polishing the silver. Seemed like the thing to do, ya know? And in between polishings and crime shows, calling his employer's Benefits Coordinator, and his insurance company, and the hospital about getting him an intermediate care room when he's released on Saturday or so, and calling the hospital's financial folks about making payment arrangements for the big ol' bill we're gonna get, and back to the Benefits Coordinator to untangle the complicated web of deductibles, maxouts, and coinsurance (it's a PPO), and then his short-term disability insurance, which should kick in on 12/7 if we counted our days right, and how we keep his insurance premiums current since neither they nor payroll taxes are deducted from the disability payments. Which are capped at $500/week.

And calling my own insurance company and two vendors and then my primary's office to shake loose some effing test strips and lancets I ran out of last week, which no one but me has felt the slightest urgency about getting replaced, even though it turns out it's a 2-minute process to order them: the primary's office writes a script, puts k's phone number on it, and faxes it to the vendor's diabetes supplies fax number. Yup. A caveman could do it.

Since the idiots at the primary's office whose paid job it is to know and do all this FOR me couldn't get it together in a whole WEEK, and don't have the sense to hire any cavemen, I learned their job. I provided them with the instructions and the toll-free fax number to fax that script.

The second time I called, I mean. That was after the first call, where they had me on hold for 7 minutes and I hung up? And then I called back. And didn't ask for anyone in particular this time, just said, --Hi. This is k. I need my diabetes supplies I ran out of last week. Got a pen? Okay. Write a script for strips and lancets, I test 3x/day, write my phone number on it, and fax it toll free to this number. Okay? And write a little note or call them to explain that I've been out for a week and can no longer wait 3-5 days for the UPS delivery, so now this needs to get overnighted. Because if it isn't, then something really bad could happen. I have some really serious health complications here and not testing could mean an outcome that would cause a great deal of trouble.--

I don't think for one minute they'll overnight it. But at least they may effing attempt to send a fax now, if it doesn't kill the last three brain cells they can collectively call their own. Between the eleven of them.

Okay. That was just taking care of business. I like taking care of business.

I like this even better: Now I'll sit back for a bit and think about my Walter walking around. There's a very fine image for me.

Ahhh.

And pour myself into bed.

3 comments:

Nancy said...

I'm glad Walter came through so well, now, concentrate on getting you well.

I wish you had someone with you, esp with Kmom and Kdad up with Walter.

Take care.

Northwoods Woman said...

Yeah Walter! And what nancy said!

Joyce Ellen Davis said...

Yeah, I wish kmom was still there.... just having all of us for moral support is kinda like being surrounded by ghosts. All air, no substance...lots of cheering, no real help or company.

But our hearts are in the right place.