Monday, March 14, 2016

Forced Stop

Last month I wrote a post whining about the Blogging Conundrum-- do I? Don't I? Does it help within the sphere of publishing? Yes, no, maybe. There's no right or wrong answer, basically just do it if you want to, don't if you don't.

Last Wednesday, I was given the opportunity to put my priorities in order. Yeah, in the giant sphere of life, blogging isn't all that important.

On Wednesday morning at 9:38, Monster's father fell off the roof cleaning the gutters. I know exactly what time it happened because I had just come out of the house with the broom to sweep the stuff into the bin. I heard stumbling on the roof and then I watched him fall. Twelve feet from the roof onto the cement of the carport. It was a James Bond movie. All of a sudden this guy is landing in my driveway.

I called the EMT's they took him in. He broke both of his feet. Yes, BOTH of his feet. Left ankle, right heel. Instead of falling, he jumped, and landed straight down on his feet like a cat. The doctor told me on Sunday morning, Robert's prognosis is a year, at best, before he'll be able to stand on his broken heel. He will never walk right again.

This is a total guilt trip--I told him the gutters needed to be done. He's a roofer, that's what he does. Or did, until he took disability. But I knew he had experience on a roof.

I've had to wrangle the insurance claims, the Social Worker case manager, the hospital doctors and nurses, the PT guys, the medical equipment company who is coming to my house to bring a hospital bed, wheelchair, commode, walker, and other assorted items that a complete invalid might need. I've had to set up appointments for future care, and wrangle transportation to and from the doctor's office.

I've had to arrange for all this because Robert will not be allowed to go to a rehab facility.
The insurance company will not pay for rehab because the doctor said Robert was in for observation, not as a patient. That's a whole other side line I won't get into. It was HOURS of bureaucracy. Yes, let's thank the doctor for that as well.

*Pause for the telephone* I am writing this on Saturday morning.

Robert just called and said they were going to release him today. With no equipment in the house. His doctor gave me a follow up call two minutes later and said they were going to release him today. I explained to him the equipment wasn't here-- there was a long dramatic pause-- and then he said, "Well, we'll see if we can get it sorted out." I also explained to him that Robert needed to be taken home by ambulance on a stretcher because his (the doctor's orders) were that Robert was NOT supposed to be on his feet at all. Obviously. The doctor said, "Well, we'll see."

*Pause again for telephone.*

The lovely Ginger from After-Care at the hospital said she spoke to the Doctor who is releasing Robert today. I asked about the equipment. She said she'd get back to me. Fifteen minutes later she returned my call and said she spoke to the medical supply company who is bringing the bed and said they couldn't get out here until Monday. Not five minutes later, I received another call from the medical supply company that said they couldn't get out here with the bed until Monday.

I am writing this next on Sunday morning.

Robert now needs to have a bed downstairs. Unfortunately, the only way to bring Monster's full downstairs, is if I clean the entire house, move furniture, and spring clean at the same time. So, that is what I did, from Friday night into Saturday morning. It looks like I may even be able to paint upstairs now that he's living on the main floor. (I have to look at the bright side somewhere.)

Robert is now in bed, (which I will also have to move BACK upstairs tomorrow morning before the medical supply company arrives with the hospital bed.) He is happily encased in purple haze of pain medication. I am trying to figure out which closet to clean next.

Tomorrow brings a whole other nightmare of phone calls and furniture.

In the larger scheme of things, blogging is NOT important when the fit hits the shan.

There's a line from an old song

"... don't know where, don't know when, but I know we'll meet again some sunny day."

Anne Gallagher (c) 2016


Maria Zannini said...

You are the second person in the last ten minutes with news like this.

I know what you're going through, and I know about these cleaning jags that have to be done to accommodate some new event. Nothing spurs me more than a crisis. I don't like it, but at least it gives me a mission for good.

I hope you'll take care of yourself now. You have enough on your plate.

I am truly sorry he took such a bad fall especially given his profession.

Bish Denham said...

Oh my dear, Anne. I will keep you all in my thoughts and prayers, particularly healing prayers for Robert. My hope for you, is that he is an easy invalid, one who is thoughtful, thankful, and easy to please.

We will meet again. Until then, remember to breathe, remember to step outside once in a while and take in the beauty of the world.

Big hugs.

Author R. Mac Wheeler said...

Best wishes to all of you


Stacy McKitrick said...

So sorry to hear about this. When bad stuff happens, it sure happens fast, huh? Hope he feels better soon (so he doesn't drive you nuts). :)

Liza said...

I am so sorry you are going through all this. I wish you strength and peace, and healing to Robert. And remember, it's possible your blog may supply an outlet for venting. We are here if you need us!

Yvonne Osborne said...

It sounds like an insurance industry nightmare, one which many people get snared in. I'm sorry it happened to you and your family, but spring is coming and the writing will never go away. I seldom blog anymore (though I never forget it and feel guilty about it) but I still write and you will too. Good luck.

Me said...

I'm sorry to hear that, Anne. I just stumbled onto your blog page, so I'm a bit late in my comment. I hope Robert's recovering well.