Dad's in his new digs, all snug and sound. Mom's been with him since he arrived- he's got a different breathing tube in his trach and she's not comfortable leaving until she knows the darn thing will stay on.
It's a lovely facility. He's safe and he's home. As soon as I have the ok from Mom and the home I'll post his info so you can visit. Here's the deal: because he's not in skilled nursing, it's up to US to help him recover brain activity. He's going to need lots of stimulation from lots of familiar voices. I need your help with this. Keep this in mind. But for now, be thankful with me that he's home.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Playing Catch Up
Well guess what? We didn't get answers later that day. Or week. Or month.
A lot has happened since I left you, and somehow very little has happened. I visited my parents two weekends ago, and here's where we were:
The infection on NYE wiped out every ounce of progress Dad had made, but he had started to pick up again. By the time I got there on Jan 22, he was, developmentally-speaking, almost where he was when I left on December 28. Not a bad thing, but the glacial pace of the progress can get discouraging. SSH hospital was ready to release him, because he was finally stable and they felt they had done all possible. The natural progression was to be to a skilled nursing facility...which might have been a possibility had he not almost died from infection on Dec 31. He had exhibited enough progress then to be moved to SkN, but that was no longer the case.
We worked with Dad's insurance company (name to be protected, but let's just say it rhymes with "Who Flossed the New Field") to find out our options. WFNF was supportive of sending him to skilled nursing, ready to write a check. Doctors and officials from the hospital let WFNF know Dad's state, and they backed out. Oh, we could still send him...but Mom and I would pay the full ticket ourselves. In the end, SkN was not the best place for him, because he can't follow the "squeeze my hand" commands with 100% accuracy. So on to the next option.
Oh wait...there WASN'T one. Not according to WFNF.
At that point we had one option: sending him to a nursing home. There's technically a second: bringing him home and having round the clock care/staff (HA! No- my millionaire dating club membership's expired, sorry), but not really. So on to nursing home shopping.
We'd found comfort at a few facilities when we looked for skilled nursing, so we approached them first. Literally no room at the inn. At 4 different facilities. We finally found some places that had a space available, but when they found out about our healthcare coverage we were once again turned away; they didn't accept private insurance, only Medicare and Medicaid. And once WFNF got wind of our only option being a nursing home, they made sure to let us know they wouldn't be helping with that.
I see. So to review: he's got "full" coverage that he's paid into for for almost 20 years with no more than an office visit for a sniffle. He's too young for Medicare and too "wealthy" for Medicaid (again, ha. He simply lives above the poverty line). So because we're responsible Americans and pay our own way, versus joining in the bankrupting of an already bloated and abused government program, we've got to either sell kidneys to pay for a nurse or just wheel him down the damn street ourselves and hope he hangs in there?
Oh, disability! Of course! When and where do we get that? Ok, sure I've got time for these 60,000 papers. And when do we find out if he qualifies....? Oh, yeah, 3-5 months. Got it. But once he gets disability benefits, he can get Medicare according to the loophole, right? Awesome, and how long does that take....up to 2 years? Ok. Sure. Excuse me while I wheel him down the street, as we can't afford the ambulance any longer.
Anyone who dares to tell me that this nation's healthcare system doesn't need repairing will meet the business end of my fist. We've been painted into every corner imaginable, all the while there's that whole "keeping Dad alive" thing that we're working on.
Mom drives 160 miles to see him every single day. This has been her new normal. The only people she talks to on a regular basis are me and Dad's daily nurse, whoever that is. Well, and Dad, but he's not so chatty lately. She's put god knows how many miles on her car and questionable tires. Our primary objective has been to get him home, whatever the cost. Every day that goes by is exhausting. We've been at the breaking point.
So finally, after a little sweet talking and good-ole-boy hometown insiders politicking, we have FINALLY found him a new home. It's only 20 minutes from home, so Mom won't be on the road 3 hours a day. Once she sees a level of comfort from the facility, she might -gasp- even go back to work. The facility is brand new and the staff already has experience with patients like Dad. It really couldn't be a better fit.
We found the place last week, so guess what! More waiting. Clear this, verify these, approve that. "We'll move him Friday." That was last week. Thanks to the weekend ice storm, that didn't happen. Pushed to Monday. Nope! Got to run eighty bazillion brain scans and tests.
Finally, after weeks of rushing, waiting, red tape, and doors slamming in our face. I JUST received a call from my mother. Dad's in a MEMS van en route to his new home. Mom's driving behind them and will let me know when they get there.
We have no idea how we're going to pay for it.
But we don't care. We just want him home. We'll figure it out. Dad magically got a Medicaid card in the mail somehow, so as long as that's valid, we're set for a bit. We are very mindful that things happened in the order they did for a purpose, and that as long as we are prepared and open, we will make it as a family. Now...off to buy a lotto ticket.
A lot has happened since I left you, and somehow very little has happened. I visited my parents two weekends ago, and here's where we were:
The infection on NYE wiped out every ounce of progress Dad had made, but he had started to pick up again. By the time I got there on Jan 22, he was, developmentally-speaking, almost where he was when I left on December 28. Not a bad thing, but the glacial pace of the progress can get discouraging. SSH hospital was ready to release him, because he was finally stable and they felt they had done all possible. The natural progression was to be to a skilled nursing facility...which might have been a possibility had he not almost died from infection on Dec 31. He had exhibited enough progress then to be moved to SkN, but that was no longer the case.
We worked with Dad's insurance company (name to be protected, but let's just say it rhymes with "Who Flossed the New Field") to find out our options. WFNF was supportive of sending him to skilled nursing, ready to write a check. Doctors and officials from the hospital let WFNF know Dad's state, and they backed out. Oh, we could still send him...but Mom and I would pay the full ticket ourselves. In the end, SkN was not the best place for him, because he can't follow the "squeeze my hand" commands with 100% accuracy. So on to the next option.
Oh wait...there WASN'T one. Not according to WFNF.
At that point we had one option: sending him to a nursing home. There's technically a second: bringing him home and having round the clock care/staff (HA! No- my millionaire dating club membership's expired, sorry), but not really. So on to nursing home shopping.
We'd found comfort at a few facilities when we looked for skilled nursing, so we approached them first. Literally no room at the inn. At 4 different facilities. We finally found some places that had a space available, but when they found out about our healthcare coverage we were once again turned away; they didn't accept private insurance, only Medicare and Medicaid. And once WFNF got wind of our only option being a nursing home, they made sure to let us know they wouldn't be helping with that.
I see. So to review: he's got "full" coverage that he's paid into for for almost 20 years with no more than an office visit for a sniffle. He's too young for Medicare and too "wealthy" for Medicaid (again, ha. He simply lives above the poverty line). So because we're responsible Americans and pay our own way, versus joining in the bankrupting of an already bloated and abused government program, we've got to either sell kidneys to pay for a nurse or just wheel him down the damn street ourselves and hope he hangs in there?
Oh, disability! Of course! When and where do we get that? Ok, sure I've got time for these 60,000 papers. And when do we find out if he qualifies....? Oh, yeah, 3-5 months. Got it. But once he gets disability benefits, he can get Medicare according to the loophole, right? Awesome, and how long does that take....up to 2 years? Ok. Sure. Excuse me while I wheel him down the street, as we can't afford the ambulance any longer.
Anyone who dares to tell me that this nation's healthcare system doesn't need repairing will meet the business end of my fist. We've been painted into every corner imaginable, all the while there's that whole "keeping Dad alive" thing that we're working on.
Mom drives 160 miles to see him every single day. This has been her new normal. The only people she talks to on a regular basis are me and Dad's daily nurse, whoever that is. Well, and Dad, but he's not so chatty lately. She's put god knows how many miles on her car and questionable tires. Our primary objective has been to get him home, whatever the cost. Every day that goes by is exhausting. We've been at the breaking point.
So finally, after a little sweet talking and good-ole-boy hometown insiders politicking, we have FINALLY found him a new home. It's only 20 minutes from home, so Mom won't be on the road 3 hours a day. Once she sees a level of comfort from the facility, she might -gasp- even go back to work. The facility is brand new and the staff already has experience with patients like Dad. It really couldn't be a better fit.
We found the place last week, so guess what! More waiting. Clear this, verify these, approve that. "We'll move him Friday." That was last week. Thanks to the weekend ice storm, that didn't happen. Pushed to Monday. Nope! Got to run eighty bazillion brain scans and tests.
Finally, after weeks of rushing, waiting, red tape, and doors slamming in our face. I JUST received a call from my mother. Dad's in a MEMS van en route to his new home. Mom's driving behind them and will let me know when they get there.
We have no idea how we're going to pay for it.
But we don't care. We just want him home. We'll figure it out. Dad magically got a Medicaid card in the mail somehow, so as long as that's valid, we're set for a bit. We are very mindful that things happened in the order they did for a purpose, and that as long as we are prepared and open, we will make it as a family. Now...off to buy a lotto ticket.
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