Well, seems it's been since June 10th past that I have posted...I promised to do better.
Perhaps it's been that a lot has happened since then?
Lemme tell you, we're fighting this "ill-health" stuff with everything I have and a lot I don't have, and in the not too distant future I will be as re-healthy as I can be and both back at my vocation and avocation with all the enthusiasm and passion I can muster.
This I promise.
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Now we're gonna talk about the past 6 weeks...the names have been changed to protect the innocent, the guilty, the selfish, the altruistic, the ignorant, the sheep, the undeclared motivationists and everybody else involved.
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~~~Let me disclaim the "facts as I see them are as I see them and possibly suspect~~~
Okay, post June 10th posting I have found my self back in the hospital and rehab twice :-(.
Once because of the results of the sudden onslaught of a high fever, 104 degree fever that brought on not shivers but uncontrollable tremors that could not, would not stop.
And again because of high fever, sans tremors.
My Docs have been really puzzled over the blood infections that causes sooooo many of my health woes, and after intraconsultation decided to remove both my Super Port and my Three Lumen Hickman (the devices through which for the past year+ I have been receiving chemo, having blood drawn, transfusions of both blood and platelets, re hydration fluids, magnesium, potassium and who knows what else...oh, yeah, stem cells in and out.) feeling that perhaps they were the source of infection.
Wellst, they removed them both, set me up with an IV and, "poof", the infection is gone and the conclusion is that it was the ports that had been causing the blood infection problems all the way back to my stays in the University of Colorado Hospital in Denver.
So anywho, during time of these procedures and discoveries, I wake up to a posse {Now begins the Monty Robbins Ballad in a non-musical genre} surrounding my bed!
I'm a little groggy, but this is what I hear, see and feel...
- I'm told that I have roughly 20 days to spend down whatever funds I have and to sell off any assets to $2,000 or less because this is what will be needed for me to be Medicaid eligible.
- Once I am Medicaid eligible I can be moved to an Assisted living Care facility of some sort and my Social Security Disability and Medicare and Medicaid will be intercepted to pay my bills at the Assisted Living Center and I will be allocated $100.00 per month.
- And lucky me, this arrangement would go on for the rest of my life, "Thank you!".
~~~Again,let me disclaim that the "facts as I see them are as I see them and possibly suspect ~~~
Needless to say I'm a little shell shocked and attempt to mount a defense, even though it's 8 to 1, but I get shot down when the posse calls for a vote and the posse created question goes out to the posse, "Do you think pete can live by himself?"
Well, the vote was 8-0...surprise, surprise, surprise.
Then there were some cordial adieus, and they saddled up and rode off into the sunrise.
Funny how things work sometimes..."I feel the bullet go deep in my chest..."
Within a few moments one of my Docs came in for morning rounds and I tell him of the saga of being encaptured, arrested, tried, convicted and sentenced.
With some emotion I might add, he pondered, "I wonder how they came to this conclusion without talking to your doctor?"
He told me to take it easy, my blood pressure needn't any more stressors and to get a hold of someone from the hospital patient advocacy department, which I did.
The advocate came up and reiterated that I had nothing to worry and no one could take my rights away and I could/should keep him informed.
Later that day my Neurologist PA came in with the results of Cat Scans, X-rays and MRIs and told me as far as he was concerned I was free to go home after rehab.
The next morning another of my Docs was making rounds an told me that the plan all along had been for me to finish rehab and go home and back to work.
Soooooooooooo, here's the plan.
I'm gonna finish out my time at here at rehab, because I want to, not because I have to and then I'm gonna go home and continue rehab and slowly prepare to and slowly re-enter the work world.
And this is with the blessings of my physicians and therapists.
What I am not going to do is to be herded into a 12x12 enclosure with $2,000 in assets and a $100.00 a month allowance for the rest of my life and the opportunity to play Bingo once a week, have someone read the newspaper to me in group, listen to a weekly piano player relive Liberace and an opportunity to go to Walmart once a month to spend what allowance monies I have left after hitting the vending machine all month.
Nope, that's not the plan.
More will be revealed, I'm sure.
If any of the posse reads this and takes offense....I'm sorry.
I know you were/are just trying to be of help and I do appreciate it, and I appreciate all you've done for me up to this point.
I've lost one friend over all this and I would hate to loose another.
Good Friends are hard to find and bond with.
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