Out of a Hat

 Okay, sigh, where did we leave off last time?  Oh, it was the end of the world after election day.  Oh, and the terminator died.  Then I went radio silent and my apologies.   However, you will soon understand why. 

Let's just start at the end, be it as it may.  There is still no obituary posted.  Yep, a month and a few days later and no obituary.  If you have been a long-time dear reader, you will remember a post about a year and a half ago that is probably itching your brain right now. The one where my mother left a yelling voicemail to me that I didn't tell her my mother-in-law had died AND that I hadn't put out an obituary.  YEAH, that. ("So My Mom Called")

And,  as you have probably guessed: there is also not a memorial planned.  This is where I explain that there was an ACTUAL VOTE and it was tied.  The person who can break the tie - and who is also the Executor of the Will - did not vote.  Their only response was to incorrectly correct the term Wake.

My mom has it stated in the will, the one we're supposed to be following because that was her final wish, that she wanted "a wake in lieu of a funeral."   They said that it was a Viewing.  Sigh.

Help me out, google:

Now perhaps you're wondering:

Is there no money for a memorial?  Yes, there is.

Is there a want for a memorial?  Yes, despite the tied vote. There are people in the community who would like to pay their respects.

Is there a convenient place for a memorial?  Also, yes. RIDICULOUSLY convenient and probably free.

So...sigh.  In this situation is both a relief and a frustration that I am not the executor.  Originally, I was designated the Executor, being the youngest, but it was changed With My Blessing.   Let's say if it had remained me, THIS SHIT WOULD BE DONE BY NOW.  

What else...oh, the house. The gdamn house.  It is supposed to be sold and split amongst the remaining children.  A sibling has an option to buy out the other siblings but it has to happen in a timely manner.  90-days, in fact.  We are now 33 days into the 90-days.  

THIS IS WHERE I SAY LOUDLY AND CLEARLY: this is not about the money.  This is about closure.

One of the siblings is "planning on" keeping the house, "contingent on" their house being sold.  So, that's whatever.  That's a whole other topic that is deep and a perfect example of this family but in order to keep this somewhat confidential, I'm not going into detail.

Meanwhile, the house is empty.  We spent days emptying it out and had an antiques dealer come out and buy a lot of their things.  So, now it sits empty. Did I mention that it had a rodent/raccoon problem? Oh I didn't?  Because of course it does.  

Also, that the original delay for the obituary is because the Boomer sibling - who watches a certain "news" organization - said that they didn't want her death to be common knowledge because "the homeless" will break into  the house and live there.  Dear reader, this house is almost twenty minutes away from the nearest town. It also has neighbors who live RIGHT NEXT DOOR.  But now, it's okay for it to be empty.  

AND why did everyone hustle to empty it out completely when one sibling is buying it remains a mystery.

So, clapping of hands, my part is finished.  I just have to wait to sign on the dotted line at the attorney's office when the time comes.  I have my hands full with my own life, I cannot take on theirs as well.

And yes, I do feel badly that nothing has been done to honor her death.  It could be said that it's reflective of the children she raised.  It could be said that people are making choices for themselves instead of for her.  However, this is not my problem to solve.  Somewhere in the ether, she may be frustrated that I'm not storming the gates to fix things, as has been expectation in the past.  But I'm not. I am not the executor and I have not been a part of the family.  This is not my job to fix.

Finally, I almost forgot this part.  This will end this will a huff of disbelieving laughter instead of screaming-into-the-void frustration.

The will states (paraphrasing) In the event that an agreement cannot be made regarding the ownership of the house - as in two or more siblings want to obtain the house and cannot compromise - the determining decision will be decided by....

Choosing a Name Out of a HAT.

Battle Fatique

 In the midst of the past week and the ongoing father-in-law adventure was a horrible election.  This historic - yet again - event did not get lost in the shuffle and in a weird way, it was a relief that it wasn't front stage and center in my brain.  Because if that was the only thing I would have had to focus on, I would still be in bed.

So...here we go again.  Except this time it will probably be worse; as there are no guard rails this time. I cannot sugar coat it.

As staying in the bed for the next four years is not a viable option, I focused on what could be done.  I wrote about this the last time this disaster happened.  (see 2016 and 2020 posts)  This time I fear for peoples safety.  This time no one is safe from the actions of the incoming administration.

On one of the social media apps someone said "Well, at least we live in a blue state so we're lucky..." and that was immediately shouted down.  It was rude, like eating cake in front of starving children, and it was not a good take.  We will have a target on our state because it is blue.

The first thing I did as a coping technique was cull through my facebook friends. I did not look at the count so I don't know how many were deleted.  Anyone whom I haven't interacted with at all were deleted, many who are now Red Hat Wearers were deleted.  Requests I accepted "just because" - deleted.  The gentleman that I've written about commenting/"debating"/educating me on my posts after being asked not to. If you can't honor boundaries then I will make mine bigger.

Remaining are people that I consider friends, family members, neighbors, coworkers - past and present, and friends of Kevin/race car friends.  The friend count is mis-leading because the family is a big one.    There may be further cuts and there were a few that I wavered about.  

My point though, if you can't honor boundaries or if you cannot be a decent human being and/or still support the very devil incarnate, I'm not interested in giving you access to my life.  This isn't a simple disagreement about "politics", this is now a choose your side and hope you're right situation.

Next task was to cull through my email subscriptions.  Gone were the news updates and breaking news alerts.  I unsubscribed from the newspaper that declined to endorse a candidate.  Anything that is going to mention TFG on the daily was unsubscribed.

Then The Hollywood Reporter posted this article: How to Block TFG from All Your Screens   I suggest giving that a browse if you are so inclined.

Which brings me to the twitter/threads/bluesky situation.  I downloaded my profile on the twitter and deactivated the account.  It feels like bluesky is going to be the front runner on this kind of platform and that's where my BFF has an account so I'm going to try to focus on growing that profile.  I may put the news as focus on one and entertainment on the other.  I don't know yet; other than I don't have the attention span to monitor/upkeep both.

More pragmatic ideas that I have read:

One of the most comforting ideas that I read was to treat these next four years like we did during the pandemic:  Stay home, stay safe, do comfort activities.  Work on improving the space around you.

Get vaccinated. Get all the immunizations you can, while you can. Make sure you're up-to-date.

Get all your health stuff completed: dental, physical, vision exams. MENTAL HEALTH.

Cancel any health tracking or period tracking apps.  This may seem paranoid but I've seen it suggested multiple times; enough to list it here.

Get or renew your passport

Complete legal paperwork - get the divorce, complete the will, change your name, adopt the children.

Get a library card and use it.

Have cash on hand for emergencies.  As much as you can afford and/or are comfortable with.

Make the big purchase now...if you need a refrigerator, car or home improvements do it now before prices increase.

Stock up. Like the pandemic, stock up on paper goods, canned goods, non-perishables, OTC medicine, etc.  Stock up on clothing if you have kiddos and it's feasible.  Supply, demand and prices will be an issue.

People suggest stop using the shamazon.  I understand the principle and support it.  It's not feasible for some though.  If you live rurally, shamazon can be a lifesaver.  I'm reading that Target and Lowes are good alternatives however.

Donate - if you are able, donate to these organizations:

• Planned Parenthood
• ACLU
• Trevor Project and any LGBTQ+ organizations
• The Human Rights Campaign
• Local non-profits
• PBS and NPR

Hopefully this is a little bit of help when many of us are feeling bleak and powerless.  If you have any ideas that I haven't included, put them in the comments and we can post a list later for quick reference.

Top Ten of the Past Week

 We have established and it has been greatly recognized that I have a very dark sense of humor.  See previous post.  This might be another one to skip if that's not your vibe.

As a, perhaps unhealthy...or healthy?...coping mechanism, I am going to present the Top 10 Moments of the Last Week with the Terminator.  I swear there is no exaggeration or hyperbole in any of these.

10.  Making the joke that we are all grounded forever and being haunted the rest of our living days for not knowing her advanced directive and making the ICU nurse laugh.

9.  Hoping to all of the universe and all that you believe in that her spirit did not hear us cursing profusely.  see: grounded forever. Especially the "STOP BEING A D*CK THEN" in response to a brother's quoted worry of being abandoned.

8. The food aide coming into the room and asking what my mom wants for lunch. I gestured to a clearly comatose elderly person and I say "No, she's on comfort care. She isn't eating."  The aide asks "So, no dinner then?"  MY GAWD

7. While helping my niece clean up the crime scene that was my mother's bedroom, she happened upon my dad.  In his urn, in a box, in a bag, on the top shelf of an unused closet.  "What is this?" she says as she brings it down.  "Oh, that's Dad." I nonchalantly reply because I forget that people don't live in my head. "WHAT'S HE DOING UP THERE!?!" she exclaims and I really don't have an answer that is appropriate for a granddaughter who loved her grandparents.   "Well, I am taking him Out of the Closet!" which made us both giggle.

6. Still cleaning closets with the niece. In another cupboard she brings something down and says "Auntie, what is THIS!?!"  And she shows me Another Urn.  "WHO IN THE HOLY HELL IS THAT!?!?" I yelled in response.  A few minutes of investigation and she discovers that it's just my mom's empty urn.  WHEW.

5. These texts:

4.  Again, cleaning out cupboards and closets.  Niece will need therapy forevermore for finding this beyond inappropriate novelty next to her grandpa's chair.  I need therapy FFS.  As a true family member, she hid it for another unsuspecting family member to find.

3. Keeping baby hair was a thing of generations past, to my dismay.  I found two small boxes of baby hair in my closet adventures.  One labeled, one not.  When someone pouted that they felt they were missing out, I asked "I just found Mom's baby hair. Did you want that? Because that's what you're missing."  AND THEN sister-in-law finds a gift box full of "Mom's name hair" and it's curls.  PINNED CURLS.  I am not a screamer but I am a curser.  I am just telling myself that those were extensions. *shudder*  

2. Family Text Chain...we all know how those can be.  We received a text that Grandma is gone with a black heart.  Seems pretty clear.  I wrote something nice.  Nephew wrote something nice. Younger Brother posts a photo that he took that morning. Nephew #1 says something nice.  It's clear what has occurred, specifically after Brother texts that they were loading her up now.   Younger brother texted Brother and asked if mom was going to be around the next day.  I mean...what.  Brother phones him and said "You saw the text..."  Younger brother said he didn't understand and that he should have called him.  Well, he just attended your mother's death so...how about no.

1. We're waiting for a room upstairs while they were still trying to stabilize her in the Emergency Room.  We waited...two hours?  The ENTIRE TIME Younger brother would not stop talking. It was like if he wasn't talking he was going to die.  I can rationalize that he was traumatized but he wasn't talking about that anymore. Even though he did overshare details that none of us needed to know or be able to visualize.  He was talking about crazy ex-girlfriends and cars and money and how a guy on the internet are proving scientists wrong because what do scientists know and the Boeing strike etc. etc.

At one point during the stream of word salad, he starts talking about when my grandfather dropped dead of a heart attack at my house when I was 15.  I literally loudly said "CAN WE JUST NOT" and he stopped. Looked surprised, even.  Then he continued with the word salad when he asks "Where are you at with menopause? are you done?"

FOR FUCK SAKES.  WE are In the MIDDLE OF THE EMERGENCY DEPARTMENT, outside our DYING MOTHER'S ROOM.  SHUUUUT UUUUPPPP 

I was silent for the count of three and looked at Kevin who was rendered SPEECHLESS and this never happens.  I quipped something about just about done with that without making eye contact or body language of any kind showing that this is an okay conversation. Then he began to  continue with questions.  Sister-in-law - came out to interrupt and was like "Oh no, we're not talking about that..." Later, Kevin said that he said it so matter-of-factly, so assuredly, that he assumed maybe we had a conversation about it?  And that somehow made it worse.

So, yeah.  This is what I meant about my family.  I can think of no other examples that would more clearly explain who they are/can be.  Which brings me to this meme that I will hold forever dear to my heart:

RIP Terminator

 I'm not sure how to start this one...I'm going to go with the caption that I put on a snap to my BFF a little over a week ago:

"My mom fell and is dying. I didn't have that on my bingo card. FML"

Or...I can start it like I did in the email to my job partner: 

"Okay, this is going to sound weird and you need to remember who I am as a person.  My mom is dying.  She is actually supposed to be dead by now but she’s the effing Terminator."

Apologies if you're sensitive about these kinds of things, you might want to skip this post.  It's just been A LOT and based on a solid foundation of childhood trauma.

Longtime dear readers know that I had gone low-to-no contact with my bio family since the pandemic. Well, that just changed in a big way, for a moment.

Quick non-gory summary: she was 89 years old, living alone and in failing health; both mental and physical.   She fell, unattended, and was found 2-3 days later.  Alive but barely. The cause of the fall is unclear, it could be the poor health or a simple fall or both.  It doesn't really matter, I suppose.  She had fallen about a month prior and hid it from the family and didn't seek medical attention.  So falling was a thing.

With her age and the state of her health and now diagnosed - in the emergency room - cancer throughout her body, there is no reason why she should have lived.  Or why she held on for SIX GDAMN DAYS after being discovered.

She had an advanced directive.  I knew this and I had a copy of it.  I knew she didn't want to be kept alive, and that is the extent of my knowledge.  I am, however, not the executor, power of attorney, or keeper of her so that didn't come into play for me.  I trusted that the siblings would have a handle on this.

They did not.

Turns out that her advanced directive was a long list of big, fat NO's.  She wanted zero interventions. None. Not even antibiotics.  We had, in fact, gone against her wishes by simply calling the ambulance.  Yeah, this is no ordinary mother.  We are probably all grounded for eternity and will be thusly haunted for the remainder of our days.

Yes, I can joke during this. It's a fun little trauma response, I've learned.

She had actually flatlined in the ER but because the advanced directive was not on hand, they did bring her back.  Somewhere she is sooooo pissed about that.

When she made it through four nights in a room and one night in the ER, the hospital discharged her to hospice, as was her previously stated adamant wish: that she died looking out over the lake.  I was not in agreement with this plan because  I am painfully aware of the hospice process. (I'm pro-Hospice, it just has to be done for the right reasons and family)  I didn't think it was fair to place the burden on the family but again: not the decision maker.  She lasted one day at the house then went peacefully as she wanted.

I was not there.  I sat vigil at the hospital for a few days then had to extricate myself from the entire situation.  Years of self reflection and therapy were tossed out the unopenable window of the hospital in no time at all.  Sure, at first, everyone was on their best behavior but that isn't sustainable; especially in emotional situations.

Also, my belief is that she wasn't there.  That was just the body she inhabited.  I had already mourned her loss, if you will, in the past year or so.  And it has to be acknowledged: this situation was nothing like my mother-in-laws. 

Now we're closing the house and that has not gone without drama on multiple fronts.  To a Shakespearean level, there has been resistance, passive aggressiveness, gaslighting, pettiness, anger, sadness, denial, and thievery.  All of the seven sins have been fully represented under that roof.

Not to say there hasn't been moments of levity or kindness. Those happen even in the worse situations and for those, I am grateful.  But I am ready to be done now.  I'm ready to say a final goodbye to that house and that parent and breathe.

So, rest in peace Terminator.  We speak your name, Mom, and you're probably hating it.

Happy Fall - MySpace Style

 

Tinder for Clothing

The other day I had to attend a meeting for work.  As always, I sat next to my job partner.  We are wired the same way so meetings can be a struggle after a while for us.  She will often doodle and I'll go through my photos or update my apps.  

I noticed she was looking at photos of outfits on her phone and she was swiping them away.  I watched for a minute to see if was a game or an app until I finally asked what it was.   She laughed and said she had signed up for stitchfix.  Then she showed me how it worked and how they identify your style.  Her style was something like Active BoHo.  

I asked her if it was expensive and she said it depended on if you kept anything and what exactly was kept.  She said it was free to try so I was a little intrigued. More intrigued like wanting to do buzzfeed quiz to see which television character I am than wanting to buy any clothing. 

Then I forgot about it, like I do.  Clearly, not a clothes kind of a person or a priority for me, I should say.  Then an ad appeared for it weeks later, like it does now if you simply think about a thing.  I did a search and went to the site.

It was easy to register and kind of fun to swipe through clothing.  They take a lot of information so it's definitely not one-size-fits-all.  There is even a price range option and I opted for "Under $50"

At the end there is an option to write any expectations or needs.  I wrote "Black. purple, blue and green color preferences in that order" and soft fabrics only.

This could be great or not but I thought this might be a good way to supplement my leggings, tshirt, hoodie wardrobe.  And: I didn't have to leave the house.

Then a week later the order was delivered.  They used a sketchy delivery service so that was a first strike.  They left it on our deck, just short of  out of the rain.  They could have put it a foot closer to the door and guaranteed it wouldn't get wet.  But this delivery service has left packages in the MIDDLE OF THE DRIVEWAY ON THE GROUND so this was an improvement.

I admit, I was a little excited.  Kind of like when you shop for school clothes. I set my expectations low, all the same.

The firs thing that I took out of the box was a sweater. I didn't even unwrap it.  It was "burnt orange" but more of an ugly rust color.  It was how I would describe as "pilly" fabric.  It was an Immediate No. 

The rest of the clothing was wrapped together like an outfit and I appreciated that detail.

The first from the outfit group was a black, short sleeved shirt.  Just my thing.  It has lace shoulders and sleeves. Nope.  It fit fine, a little loose but it felt more like aging mom trying to be cool.

Second was a green sweater.  I don't wear sweaters anymore but thought "Maybe I will though, if I have one"  It was...meh.  It didn't have any definition, really.  It felt sloppy.  I prefer v-neck or scoop neck and this hit at the high part of my collar bones.  And it had random buttons for detail.  So: Maybe but probably not.

Third was a green tunic.   Army green, not Kevin's favorite color on me and not really mine either.  I like the fabric and it fit...fine. A little too big.  It went onto the maybe pile as well. The determining factor for that was going to be the price.

Finally was a pair of jeans.  I'm on Team No Hard Pants but it's going to be winter soon so I kept an open mind.  Again, they fit fine.  The legs were pegged and I hate that.  They weren't stitched though so I could unroll them and that was an improvement.  These also went into the Maybe pile, depending on price.

I gathered the clothing up with the box and brought it back to my office. I was going to look at the invoice and check out right away so I didn't forget.  Then Kevin got home after a visit with his dad so there was a long discussion to be had.  

After that, I was exhausted and it was time for dinner so I left it to deal with this morning. But curiosity got to me so I peeked at the invoice.  Any guesses?

$189...with a  $20 discount for a total of $169 if I kept everything.

So, that felt like a lot.  Certainly much more than I would pay for clothing.  If I had LOVED everything, I could trick myself into "It's only $34 a piece" and "It will be a one time splurge."

But I was AT BEST shoulder-shrugging "meh" about it.  I felt that stupid obligatory feeling of "Well, I could keep something at least" which is silly and more than I want to spend.

This morning I sat down to see how it works to return everything.  This is where I spot the "Return by 10/21" deadline.  Did you just glance at a calendar?  Today is the 19th.  Today is a SATURDAY and it's already mid-day.  I received the box late Friday afternoon.

To use a quote we use often as a joke "That's how they get you..."  At least, that's what it felt like.

Needless to say, I logged in and found the "Delay my return date" and set it for Wednesday.  Whew.  Now I'm trying to figure out how to cancel the service but all I can find is a temporary hold; even though it says there's a "On Demand Only" setting.  (figured it out...I think. We'll see in a month)

Back to the beginning.  Remember I said that I clicked the "Everything under $50" button.  Here's how THAT broke down:

Cardigan $49 - technically under $50.  

Black lace top - $35.  That feels like a lot for a glorified t-shirt but I could be wrong. I don't shop.

Tunic - $58 - NOT under $50

Sweater - $48

Jeans - $62

So now that feels manipulative.  Averaged out, like I mentioned, each piece is "only" $34.  When I clicked "Under  $50" though, I expect  everything to be "Under $50" like I clicked. Not an average.

To be fair, I don't buy clothing often and if I do, it's from shamazon or a big box store.  My perception of what a good price is might not be accurate. It comes down to: it was more expensive than I wanted.  

Then we'll mention again the stated color preferences, in order: black, purple, blue, green.  I got black, green and rust. So that was kind of on the mark, other than the rust abomination.  I stated "soft textures" and got jeans.  Albeit, they were soft fabric, they're still hard pants.

It was a fun experiment and I am a little disappointed that it didn't turn out better.  Normally I would look at reviews before doing something like this but needed something impulsive and fun.  I looked at the reviews just now and it's predominately the same as I wrote above.  It sounds like as a start-up, it was really good but now it's fallen to profit over quality and customer services.

In case you think I'm exaggerating the clothing.  Here's the screenshot:

Step, Ball, Change - Raising Parents Update

 I had alternative titles for this post: Raising Parents Hokey Pokey and This is the worst game of Whack A Mole I have ever played.  This dance move title seems more accurate though.

On Friday we were finally approved by Medicaid.  There was a last minute record request on Thursday that had a by-end-of-next-day turn-around.  Luckily we were able to make it happen because if not, there were actual financial repercussions. 5,015 of them.

At 3:55 pm we were approved for Medicaid. We were so relieved that the 90-day nightmare was coming to an end.

Then my phone rang and it was the caseworker from the facility.  They had reviewed the f-i-l's status and wondered if we would be open to transferring him to a new facility. Because he was deemed Too Healthy for where he is now.

WUT.  

To be fair, we had kind of wondered as he seems to be one of the more relatively healthy residents and even the staff have acknowledged that. He can be mobile in a wheelchair, he has basic verbal abilities, can do very basic care independently, and can make some low-level decisions on his own.   But we hadn't taken it further than a pondering with *waving of hands around my body* going on.  

We hesitantly agreed to an evaluation from the other facility.  It's a block away at furthest and has recently been remodeled.  It closed after the pandemic and now is reopening as a memory care center so this feels like it might be a good fit.  However, it appears to be more of an Assisted Living facility vs. a SNF so we have concerns.   But this is nothing that can't be answered with an evaluation of f-i-l and a tour completed by me.  We have actually became kind of excited about the opportunity.

And then...

Just have a seat...just do it...maybe an adult beverage too.

He fell. That very same day.  And didn't tell anyone. AGAIN. And yes, even in the facility.  

He was standing in his room and fell; bonked his head and hurt his back.  Again. It happened in the late morning and he didn't tell anyone until late afternoon.  We are waiting for the x-rays but it sounds like he re-injured L1 and L2.  The bonk on the head did not present with a bruise or even a red mark so we're thankful for that.  The original injury recovery for L1 and L2 was estimated at 6 mos. to never.  We are not even 90-days into that timeframe.

Now he's back to bedridden and on painkillers again.  We're hoping that the painkillers are temporary so we don't have another episode of hospital delirium.  Update: they are because he doesn't want to take them.

I am going to tour the new facility tomorrow all the same. We don't know if the injury will disqualify him or not.  The hope is that they will still say "Come on over" and then perhaps he'll be in a facility more suited for him.   The person I spoke to said they're a SNF and Assisted Living with a Memory Care focus, so I'm hopeful.

Funny interesting, not funny haha, is that way back in the 1900's when I was in high school, I was a busboy/dishwasher at the new facility.  I actually liked the job, it was part-time and I could work there around my other job(s).  I ended up quitting because Satan and his family didn't like that I worked on the sabbath. Sigh.

So in less than three hours we went from the high of finally accomplishing Medicaid and the possibility of an exciting move to what-feels-like right back to square one.  This, I am sad to acknowledge, seems to be the theme of this part of life.  

AND Step, Ball, Change.

Today I visited the possible new facility and it is AMAZING.  It's more residential than hospital and they assure me they can meet all his needs. He would be in a shared room but it has a bathroom in the room, and can be made to be much more homelike.  Also, it feels like they won't allow him to pout in his room and will have him eating with the residents instead of in his room.   

I also spoke with the current facility who feels like this fall is not going to prevent him from being transferred. WHEW.  They feel like there was just bruising and general soreness from falling.  Double Whew.

Now that I'm excited about the change, I'm waiting for the pendulum to swing and change that.

But we're back to waiting for Medicaid to complete their part of the process.  I'm supposed to have a call from them tomorrow for next steps.  Oh, I think I forgot to mention that I have a new caseworker. The one I had is "working in a different department now" and I'm hoping that different department is the janitor's closet. (no shade to janitors)

And of course, the new facility had a list of required documents. The facilities only share health information amongst themselves, not full files and that seems silly.  But you know me, I had everything ready and just clicked Send to the provided email.

We haven't approached this subject with Dad yet. (broached? what's the right word there) because we don't want to get his hopes up and/or make him anxious.  The last time there was a change he was low-key suicidal.  We're hoping that we can HYPE this potential move up so that he will be excited too.

As we know though, things can change in a minute.  Step, ball, change.

In Search of Ice Cream

 Few things will sum up the past two years of our lives better than this story.

Last weekend was one of those lingering summer weekends.  We didn't have plans, for once, other than a visit to the father-in-law.

After our visit, we both commented that it felt odd not to have something looming above us needing to be done.  I mentioned that it felt like too nice of a day to just head home.  This started the never-ceasing-in-a-marriage "Where do you want to go?" conversation.

Something in my head said "Ice Cream"  I phrase it like that because I'm not a big fan of ice cream.  I mean, it's not terrible.  It's just not my favorite.  It IS Kevin's favorite though.  So he readily agreed.

There is a big farm stand/ice cream shop/tourist place out on an island that is known for good ice cream.  This island has bridges to cross and is accessible two ways, both rurally.  The closest route is about fifteen...maybe twenty minutes away heading south.

That was the plan, until we go down the big hill from the hospital and spot two things: the freeway is at a near standstill and there is a freight train going through town.  (you have to love small towns)  We discussed it and decided to go through town, once the train was through, and take the backroads.

Then we sat in traffic.  Because train and freeway, that section of town was a mess.  It was safe to say that when we arrived to the even smaller town where the bridge to the island was, it would probably also be a mess. Because that is where the train is heading and  that is the direction of the slow traffic.

Instead of just going home or finding ice cream elsewhere, we decided to take the other route.  This includes going through miles of farmland and way out of the way.   But: ice cream.

Finally we arrive and the parking lot is full.  FULL.  Because it's a nice Saturday afternoon at the end of summer.  Not to be daunted, we parked then walked to the ice cream portion of the farmers market. 

The line ran outside and circled along the building.  It would be every bit of a twenty minute wait and then no where to sit.  Sidenote: eating in the car is one of my least favorite activities.  Also, we're both feral when it comes to crowds now AND we're again trying to lessen our exposure so we don't put anyone at risk visiting Dad.

After petting a dog and taking a family photo for strangers, we reluctantly and frustratedly returned to the car.  The option for ice cream is now a Dairy Queen or an ice cream shop way back where we began when we decided ice cream was a good idea.  Except, there was one other option.  In a whole other town, an additional 15-20 minutes away, west. Further away from home.

We discussed that maybe ice cream wasn't an option for us and we headed back home.

We decided to cut across farm land to go home versus backtrack into town and get on the freeway.  At the intersection of the highway and the farmland, Kevin actually said "Eff it. I want ice cream. I'm getting ice cream." and turned on his turn signal.

I just laughed because this is ridiculous and right on par for how everything was going this year.

We traveled on the highway, going over a big bridge because this town is also technically an island, and went through town along the water.  The ice cream shop is way at the end of this town, near a marina and the street dead-ends a block away.

And it was closed.  Of course it was.  The interwebs said it was open but the locked door, closed sign, and no lights would indicate otherwise. 

Now we're in a whole other town.  There is not even a Dairy Queen.  I searched "ice cream near me" and it said that there was an ice cream shop at the opposite end of town.  This is where I say that I'm terrible at reading maps. My brain really struggles with that processing and in my jumbled brain, I didn't think to click "Directions" instead of "Navigation".  The nav app stated it was 13 minutes away, which didn't make sense to me.  This is a five minute town, end to end. But Kevin started driving back out of town so that maybe the map would reroute and give us a better idea.

Yeah, so about that.  This other ice cream shop was on Another Highway further West, and nearly onto Another Island & County.  At this point, we came to our senses and said "Maybe ice cream is not in the cards for us but like, for real" paired with "HOW HARD IS IT TO FIND ICE CREAM"

Finally Kevin asks where the nearest McDonald's is, he would just get ice cream there.  The likelihood of that was low but he was IN IT now.  As we were waiting at a stoplight, I'm trying to think of any alternative to fast food.  There was a grocery store next to us and I said we could go into there and buy ice cream.  "That is not the point. That is not the ice cream we're looking for." he says.

I said only in my head: "These are not the droids you are looking for" because while that's funny to me - a nerd - it would be lost on Kevin who has never watched Star Wars.

Years ago there used to be an A&W drive-in, like in the 1900's but it was completely closed now.  Looking right, I noticed we were next to a coffee stand. Because: of course, we're in the Pacific NW. I said "There's a coffee stand right there and they almost always have shakes..."  After a tiny muttering of wanting ICE CREAM, NOT SHAKES, he turned at the light.

We pulled into the driveway and of course there was a wait.  The person ahead of us only bought two drinks but it took forever.  This was not boding well for us. We persevered and finally it was our turn.  Kevin announces that he wanted ice cream but the ice cream shop was closed and does she have ice cream. All in one breath.  The barista laughed and was puzzled that the shop was closed. "It's a Saturday!  The Farmer's Market was this morning!"  "I KNOW RIGHT!?!?!" Kevin replied at medium-to-high volume with an accompanying throwing of hands.

Finally, Kevin gets a strawberry shake and I get a blended mocha.  A win for me and a half-hearted victory for Kevin.  We could have just gone home and stopped at our friend's coffee stand for this. And it wasn't until days later that I realized that we should have checked to see if the ice cream place was just temporarily closed.  Like they just ran to the store or whatever.  

But then we wouldn't have had an adventure and a break from reality.

Ice Cream Shop...closed
This was from a different trip...I was actually working on this day

        

Not Prepared - A Guide to the Not-Quite-The End of Raising Parents

Here is a little To-Do or What to Expect When You're Aging post for those of you who are interested.  

Summed up:  the Entering a Facility and Medicaid process is slow and excruciating. It is out of our control.  NONE OF THESE THINGS WE ENJOY NOR LOOK FORWARD TO.

In this situation, and all aging parents in skill nursing facilities (SNF), there are many moving parts:

Who is paying?  State? (Medicaid) Federal (Medicare) or Private Pay.  

 What are the Current Issues?  What landed them in a SNF

What are the Permanent Issues?  These are things that cannot or will not improve.

Has the baseline been met?  As in, has the patient gotten to the point of No Improvement?  Because sometimes a temporary stay is enough. However, start working on the Medicaid process even if they return home. Because at that point, it's only a matter of time.

Are there underlying issues?  Mental Health is also considered an underlying issue. These can waver between Current and Permanent.  AND there will be discoveries of issues you are not aware of.  I mention that to prevent others from being surprised.  I knew his medical stuff by heart and there were still things that were discovered.  

Also people have the tendency to Fake It Until They Make It.  Or Mask.  Once they are at the point of being in a hospital or SNF, they are no longer able to mask.  This was a surprise to us.  Expect what feels like a "sudden" decline.  While yes, there is obviously a negative change, what you are seeing is the person's inability to fake it any longer.  Examples: memory, speech or physical loss.

All the Housing/Care Options: 

• Home or Home with a Health Aide either part time or full time. This is almost always private pay and nearly no one can afford that kind of situation.  Medicaid will pay for it in situations.  Also, finding someone consistent is nearly impossible.
• Adult family care homes, basically a boarding home for the elderly that provides some care.
• Assisted Living - independent living but with nursing staff on site and other services.
• SNF - mostly known as nursing homes.  These also have levels of care: rehab, long-term, hospice.
• Memory Care Centers - these are SNF for people with active dementia.  Lock-down facilities and it is permanent.
• Finally, literally, is Hospice.  Hospice can be utilized in any of these situations.                               

This is where I say that commercials on television are so very misleading.  They make is seem like housing is readily available and affordable for everyone.  This is not the case.  We learned that most facilities will work with the family if they know that the Medicaid process is underway; however not ALL will.  AND most SNF's are hospital-like settings, not cozy apartments like they show on television.

This also has to be acknowledged: people who say "Oh, I would never put Mom in a home."  I won't be bold enough to say "Yes, you will" but I will say - gently - You don't know what you're saying.  Caring for an elderly loved one is exhausting and sometimes impossible.  As much as you don't like it, it is necessary to keep your loved one SAFE.  Most people cannot afford and/or have the needed training, equipment and fortitude to care for a person.

Medicaid:  To qualify for Medicaid, a person has to be destitute or nearly.  An option is to sign over any/all assets that will then be liquidated upon the person's passing.  It feels like not enough people know this. We did not know this  This can leave nothing/little to the estate; so if family members are banking on an inheritance,  this puts it at risk.

Timeline:  We are approaching 90-days wait for the Medicaid approval.  It's my understanding that this is considered a usual wait time.   The process is painfully slow and invasive. They ask for a ridiculous amount of information. Sing it with me: Please have Power of Attorney and access to financial and medical records.  What is disconcerting is the SNF staff are nonchalant about this process. It is their every day and they're not worried about it. They know eventually the Medicaid will be approved.  Because most likely it will, although it may take several attempts or delays.

The Patient:  The patient, unless legally deemed incapacitated, has final say.  If they are borderline, they can refuse to stay.  The SNF can try to convince them.  They can call EMS to try to convince them, if they try to leave the building unattended. The family can try to convince them.  But if in right mind, they can opt to leave.  Even with a Durable Power of Attorney, the patient has the final say.  To circumvent this situation is very simple: you have to lie.  You have to say it's "only until you get stronger" or "we'll work on that tomorrow" ad nauseum.

The facility encourages us to "join him in his reality" and passively agree when statements about going home are made.  They also said that there will come a time for the family to say "This is your home now" and to expect a sudden decline shortly thereafter.

The Five Stages of Grief is VERY MUCH at play at this point of the process; for the family as well.

Advocate:  Bottom line is you have to advocate.  Advocate for the Medicaid process, advocate for the loved one. Advocate for yourself.   During one financial review (I'm on 2 of 3 now) I had to tell them that this is Daunting, Stressful and placing an Undue Burden on me and the family.  I will say, for me, the tone changed once I said it.  I will whisper-shout to you  that "undue burden" can be a helpful buzzword. Do not allow caseworkers make you do their footwork. Call for an update. Call with Questions. Call to confirm receipt of requested documents.  Request a different caseworker if needed.

Ask the staff of the SNF for help, to answer questions, to provide any available accommodations or services. We have told them "We have never done this before and you have.  Please help guide us through."

This has taken a month to write and has been three different formats and varied topics therein.  I hope that this version is a helpful How To for something you're experiencing or planning for. We thought we were prepared and we were very much Not Prepared.

Whimsy

 You know a development that I've enjoyed now that I'm older?  WHIMSY

I credit the interwebs for this as we discover that it's National Dog Day or Daughter Day when we log into social media.  For all its awfulness, it has also created whimsy.

I like that in this current timeline there are such things as:

Fat Bear Week.  If you don't know about this, let me share:  Each year the Katmai National Park in Alaska has a contest to guess/vote for the fattest bear.  That's all.  Simple. Pure.  You vote online HERE  Then you can watch the progress narrow down like a March Madness bracket.

Pi Day (March 14th) or 

Star Wars Day (May 4th) or 

The day Marty and Doc visited in the future (October 21st) or 

Ferris Bueller took the day off. (June 5th)

The Best Day of the Year is April 25th

Yesterday was Mean Girls Day  and on Wednesdays, We Wear Pink.

Maybe it's because I'm a nerd that I know of these dates. I hope not.  

I hope that everyone takes a moment to have a piece of pie on March 14th or take the day off from responsibilities on June 5th

Every Day is International Dog Day

Not Everyone Has A Me

 If you're wondering how many pieces of chocolate it takes to possibly quell an oncoming anxiety attack, the answer is four.

The past three four weeks have been rough, nearly unbearable at times.  So far, everyone is still alive but people have been on the rocks from time to time.

I just finished an interview with the Medicare people.  Exactly one month after I submitted the paperwork and it happened ONLY because I started phoning every number available to me and leaving messages.  We're not going to mention that they said they didn't get messages.  Well, we will say it that one time.

Paperwork for insurance, financing, medical is stressful on the best day.  I gather and process paperwork for my job.  It's kind of my thing.  I have a now-unorganized stack of paperwork on my table in my office that has been sitting there for a month.  The majority of which was faxed to Medicaid one month ago.  The steps go: apply online, wait for a letter requesting documents, provide documents, wait for an interview, interview, wait, provide more documents, wait, and eventually get an answer that hopefully arrives before the person who needs it dies. 

I just clicked "send" on the second batch of paperwork for Medicaid.  It's taken so long that they needed update bank statements.  Also, my f-i-l banks at a big national bank with a terrible reputation and I'm not familiar with their statements.  My little credit union provides everything in one statement: checking, savings, loan, credit card.  So what had happened was I had missed sending the savings account statements.  Because: of course.

While I was on the phone with the Medicaid person, I opened his bank account online and started Print to Save as PDF his statements.  I faxed those and his updating checking account statements within an half-hour of the conversation.  I also put "PLEASE CONFIRM RECEIPT" in large, bold lettering on the coversheet.

It's now a week later and no confirmation receipt.  We did, however, get a letter printed a week ago and just received, stating that we had missing forms and a deadline of 9/23 (received on the 20th) and if we fail to do so, we will have to begin this process over again.   The amount of abject frustration that I feel has no description.  Cue BFF Swistle who very aptly described it as such:

"It is like a circus-themed obstacle course with flaming hoops, flaming trampolines, flaming tightropes—and you are navigating them, with people saying to you, “Um, can you specify what time of day you went through the flaming hoop?? Uh huh, and the second time you say you went through the hoop, when was that? No, sorry, we can’t provide any verification of the hoop-passage; you’ll have to try it again.”

AND THEN  they also sent a copy of the letter to my father-in-law TO THE FACILITY.  Cue a worried phone call from my nearly 86-year-old f-i-l who has dementia and is in a long term care facility.

THEN cut to me phoning said Medicaid worker and leaving a curt voice message about how that is CERTAINLY NOT a good idea and by the way, I requested a confirmation and didn't receive one AND don't give me a deadline then NOT tell me that I've fulfilled my responsibility to said deadline.

FOR EFFS SAKES

Sidenote: My given name is now an internet meme representing a terrible person.  It was funny for five minutes and now I'm exhausted by it.  BECAUSE that meme now causes me to be OVERLY SOLICITOUS and gracious when sometimes it is not warranted.

Tomorrow I will phone every number that I have to get confirmation of receipt of the requested documents and ask for an update, again.  It will be two months as of next Friday that I began this process. TWO MONTHS.  My next step is to email the governor and my state representatives about the abhorrent  process it takes to get someone enrolled in Medicaid.  I will, indeed, become the internet version of myself.  

Because not everyone has a Me to do this.  What happens to the folks who simply cannot meet these requirements JUST TO APPLY.  I can rationalize that the agency is short-staffed.  I cannot rationalize basic human decency.  We're not talking library books, we're talking people.  People who are clearly in crisis or they wouldn't be applying.

AND we can go through this just to  be denied on - what feels like a whim - because "You accidentally failed to report that $50 in Starbucks Rewards Cash."  (also a quote from my lovely BFF)

It's Not A Flying Car

 This is going to be chockful of privilege and I apologize in advance.  Might it help to keep in mind that Kevin and I both grew up poor and started in low-wage earning fields as young adults.

On a whim, sorta, we bought a car.  A new-to-us Honda, just a few years old.  You might have just thought, if you're a long-time dear  reader, "Didn't you just buy a new truck not long ago?"  The answer would be yes.

What had happened was:

Originally when Kevin finally convinced me to buy a new car, I was looking at the mid-size SUV's.  I really liked Subaru and I really liked the Nissan.  Our mechanic friend said an emphatic No to the Nissan because they have issues.  He liked the Subaru though so I was mildly looking for one of those.  I still had not accepted the idea of a car payment after literal decades of not having one.

Then, Kevin found a truck.  I've almost always drove a truck so this was okay with me.  It had four doors so it was kind of like an SUV and it was a really nice truck. Also, it was perfect for where we live as winters have become more winter-like. I drove it for almost two years but to be honest, it wasn't my favorite.  It had the cool factor but not the convenience factor.  

One of the many times that we were traveling back and forth from places this month, Kevin asked if I still liked the truck. And...I hesitated.  He pounced on that pause like a cat on a mouse.  He really should have been a lawyer.  

After having a week of work and extra errands and walkies, I admitted that I was pretty tired of getting up into the truck repeatedly.  It is also too high for a certain twelve-year-old dog who also hates being picked up so, so much. He agreed that it truly is too big for me and even as he ages, it's probably not our best choice.  We had already agreed on this when we bought it: eventually we would need a grown-up car.   

However, I also said that there was too much going on right now and too many changes and let's just not worry about it.  The fact that it was inconvenient was not an emergency.

Well, Kevin heard "Emergency" and kicked into Problem Solving Mode.  We drove through a dealership where we have the truck serviced to see if there was anything that I liked.  I was meh about two vehicles that we found there and we didn't really look beyond that.  He found a Honda CR-V that he liked and I was meh about.  I liked a Toyota Rav-4 better.  We went home and I didn't think about it again.

He woke me up on Saturday with a plan.  "Let's go get breakfast, look at a few cars, then go visit Dad.  We'll just look."  Which again, if you're a long time reader we don't "just look" at vehicles or dogs. It always results in us bringing one home.

I admit, I was a little peevy about it.  I had things to do and this was the last thing on my list EVER.  He said we would just go look and get questions answered; which we both know is unlikely.  I countered any lingering resentment by telling myself "Boohoo, your husband wants to buy you a new car that you can afford."  Because: I am a grown-up with childlike coping skills.

We went to the Toyota dealership because they have good ratings across the board and we were trading in a Toyota so we thought that would be the best choice.  Unfortunately they did  the salesman run-around thing.  

We were clear what we wanted and how we wanted it: no down payments, Absolutely NOT a bigger payment and not a longer loan term if possible.  We had researched and it looked like we could almost do an even trade, depending on how "new" the new vehicle was.  We were thinking 5-10 years old. 

There was a blue RAV-4 that I really liked but it was a little out of our price range. We believe the dealership could have made it happen if they really wanted to.  There was a red Honda CRV that really caught Kevin's attention. She had us drive the Toyota because the Honda wasn't available.  BUT SHE WENT WITH US and only "allowed" us to drive around the block. 

When we returned, we told her we were on a timeline and we weren't sticking around to buy a car.  She needed to make the Honda available or we would have to move on. We explained where Kevin's dad was and that it was recent; so there was a sense of urgency implied. (and: true)

We went inside because she assured us that it would be quick as possible then walked away. I set a timer on my phone for thirty minutes.  At thirty-five minutes we declined their offers on a RAV-4 and they were getting the CRV returned so that we would come back to look at.  

Reluctantly, we went and had lunch then returned. I looked at the CRV and drove it but it didn't feel right.  It just didn't fit so I said no thanks. She was astounded and probably a little annoyed.  We both remained in our camps: I liked mine and he liked his. 

 She brought out the sales manager, which is a deal breaker for me.  It's a manipulative tactic and I don't have the patience for it.  We listened and they tried one more time to make any sort of a deal; offering everything that we DIDN'T want. We walked out, frustrated.

On a whim, we stopped at the Honda dealership just down the road. At this point, I was frustrated and just wanted to go home.  Recognizing that, we didn't even get out of the truck and Kevin talked to the salesman through the window when he approached us.  Kevin explained what happened at the Toyota dealership, what our expectation was, and that we weren't even Getting Out of the Truck if he couldn't make it happen.  He had a really good vibe and was all Challenged Accepted.  He said he could AND that he would very much like to outsell the Toyota dealership. And that we would eventually have to get out of the truck.

We parked and looked at three vehicles.  An HRV, which is the small low-buck Honda SUV.  It was too small and neither of us liked it. Clearly a cheaper car.   We looked at a newer CRV 2023? that was the color that Kevin loves. (because I said "No grey, black, or white. I want a COLOR." and the RAV-4 I didn't get was a pretty blue)  It was not going to be in our price range.  Then we looked at a newer version of the CR-V that I had turned down at the other dealership.  I sat in and actually really liked it. What a difference a few years make in design and styling.

The salesman got the deal done in less than twenty-minutes. I didn't even set the timer on my phone, he hustled to make it happen.  The first invoice the payment was $15 more and he caught it then changed it without us asking.  It took about an half hour + for the financing part, which was a bummer, but then we left with a new-to-us CR-V, burgundy with all the options. It does not have leather seats which I love (they're cold/hot and they wear and crack) and they're HEATED.  It has faux wood trim, which I though would be a little cheesy but looks nice. Oh, the RAV-4 had a sunroof and I really miss having one.  THIS ONE HAD ONE, oh happy day.

They added about one year onto the contract but it's warrantied and has GAP insurance and free services; all at a lower interest rate. No money out of pocket at all and for a newer car than we had hoped for.  The savings we'll get on gas will make up the one year addition in no time at all.  The Tacoma got terrible mileage, one more compelling reason to not have it anymore.

We were both emotional leaving that truck behind because we did really like it, it just wasn't practical for us.  This was one of those rare grown-up decisions that we have to make being a childless couple. This will most likely be our forever car unless we bought something else if we were to sell the big truck.

But the facebook keeps showing me the ad for my old truck at the dealership and It's Hurting My Feelings.  It was such a cool and fun truck, it was just too big for me.  We really thought it would sell quickly but it's been there almost three weeks now. 

Then a funny thing: We realized that we bought the exact same car as Kevin's BFF.  His is a year newer.  Same color, same wheels, same features.  They went to dinner the other night and Kevin learned all about the features that we didn't know about. We didn't know about it because we didn't give the salesman the opportunity to "sell" us the car. That, in retrospect, might not have been our best idea.  But we're discovering just fun things so all's well.

I think Kevin just needed to have something fun happen and to feel like he had control over something when everything feels out of control.  It was a little bit of an impulse buy, which is a specific kind of ridiculous. It's rare for him to do something for himself and for us like this.  We always make do and make the reasonable choice. This was very much impulsive yet still reasonable.

I'm not having buyers remorse for my car but it is so much different than anything we have ever had.  All in all, we're feeling pretty good about the decision and I think we will enjoy this much more.  I have had to go to two meetings which required a little travel and it really is more easy and enjoyable to drive.

A picky detail was that the front door windows weren't tinted but the rear ones were.  The last two vehicles I have driven had tinted windows. It felt a little like a fishbowl without the tint, especially with the sunroof open.  One mention to Kevin and he made an appointment at a friend's shop to have them tinted.  It was surprisingly inexpensive to have it done and it was such an improvement.

At one point, I mentioned to Kevin that the poor children we were would be MIND BLOWN that we have a Jetson car now.   It has driver-assist and remote start and it does the ticktock thing of holding the remote then the windows all go down.  It does things that we don't even know, lol.  It has the eco-feature of stopping the engine if you're waiting at the stoplight for more than a certain time.  It is disconcerting,  for real.  

Two days later, the first dealership called us and had a car for us.  I pleasantly told her "No thanks. We went down the street and bought a car an hour later that day which was very satisfying.  AND it appears that both cars we drove at that dealership are Still There.  So: nanner to them.

Maybe our next car will be a flying car...

Just Buy Yourself a Drink

 You know what? I want to talk about something other than Medicaid and SNF and aging.

Unfortunately, there is very little else happening right now.

So this is just a toss it up and walk away post.

When Kevin got Covid, twice, he lost his sense of smell and taste. It's been three years as of this weekend and they haven't fully returned.  

Because of that, things he loved before were now rendered yukky or tasteless.  Soda is spit-it-out-immediately yukky.  Coffee just tastes bleh.

So our friend, who owns the coffee stand nearby, had us try a Lotus drink.  It's a natural energy drink without all the chemicals and high rates of sugar.  It's kind of like Kool-Aid for grownups.  

We were skeptical because it has carbonated water and soda tastes gross.   But he tried it and LOVED it. Finally something that tasted good and made him happy.

Then we bought a new-to-us truck which required loan payments.  Kevin did the math and our Coffee/Lotus budget was now our Truck Budget.  Kevin wasn't my friend for a while there.  

It was mentioned that we could make it at home; just order the Lotus online then buy the flavors and the seltzer water.  There was hope in Whoville again.

Now two years later, we have a Lotus bar instead of a coffee bar like "normal" people.   We have three flavors of Lotus, a small Soda Stream, and all the syrup flavors.   We probably lost money initially setting this up but now we're back in the black.  

Anyway, this so bougie and I do have a point.  If you're tired of coffee but still need a little zing and you don't want a can of chemical energy drink, these are a great option.  Starbies has the pink and purple drinks but these are different.  

Most coffee stands have Lotus drinks now but some are limited to just basic flavors.  Just ask them. They'll ask what type of Lotus and the most common is blue or pink. There are so many options, the limit is your imagination and taste buds.  

Kevin likes sweet and I like tart so we learned that about each other.  Here are our go-to drinks:

Kevin

• Cantaloupe and Guava
• Cantaloupe and Pear
• Peach and Pear

Me

• Strawberry and Coconut - like the pink drink. You can add creamer.
• Dragonberry - Dragonfruit, blackberry and raspberry

Our friend has two specialty drinks: 

Get-Em - strawberry, blackberry and dragonfruit.  (watermelon, if no dragonfruit)

Tequila Sunrise - Peach and Mango with  a little bit of orange juice.  And yes, she has tested it with tequila and says it's good.

The Nephew likes Kiwi but that is TART.  OMG TART.  

You can also go basic with flavors like just grape or apple; kind of like a carbonated Jolly Rancher candy.  There's a Hawaiian Punch flavor that it like a combination of all the flavors.  The ticktock app has creators who feature different drinks too so a simple search will give you a ton of ideas.  Also, the aisle of flavors in the restaurant supply store will BLOW YOUR MIND.  (all of this is orderable online too, btw)

And everything is recyclable.  The plastic cups and straws are dishwasher safe usually so just hand wash the lids.  So that's a win too.

Now you know.  You can roll up to a coffee stand and order a 20 oz. Lotus with whichever flavor you want and if they ask what flavor Lotus, just say "What do you recommend?" and let them guide you.   It's usually less than a coffee/mocha/latte in price and it's nice in the summer when coffee feels heavy.

So bougie.  Also: this is a car payment

Picture for clout.  Kevin and our friend at the coffee stand

We Will Worry About that Tomorrow

 Well, as the internet says "It's been a long month this week". When last we talked, my father-in-law was in the hospital with a broken back and other big health concerns.

I checked him into a nursing home yesterday, forever.  It played out exactly how we needed but so much quicker than we were prepared for.

The hospital kept him for five days: Friday Night to Wednesday afternoon, which includes Three Midnights. (this is important)  They stabilized him as best they can due to the health issues he has.  We were a little confused as to why they didn't keep him until they were resolved.  But we figured, it was a financial decision because our health care system is broken.

It was coordinated with the care facility where he was before and they arranged transportation.  All I had to do was show up to complete the intake. 

Having him in an adult care facility instead of a skilled nursing facility (referred to as SNF. "Sniff") when it was determined it was no longer medically necessary was our next option. He could not return home.  To do that,  I had to register him for Medicaid because he wouldn't be covered by Medicare after he was considered "healed and healthy".  This is a tedious process and takes a long time.  (please have Power of Attorney, Release to Share Medical Information, and access to accounts for your elderly parents. I beg you)

And it turns out that he is considered "over-income" for Medicaid because his social security benefit is on the high  end of the scale AND he has some savings.   We would have to "spend down" his savings and checking in a very limited way in order for him to qualify.  Essentially we would need to make him destitute.  HOWEVER, the fact that his social security benefit was "high" it made him "attractive" to more care facilities.  It's outrageous.

Meanwhile, the hospital changed his hospitalization status and he had to stay Three Midnights in order to transfer directly to a SNF and have Medicare pay for it.  They will pay for his care if he "medically qualifies" and that was achieved yesterday.  He was fast-tracked to a SNF.

During the intake, the twelve-year-old admissions person was going through insurance and supplemental plans and mentions "Oh, he's covered for 100 days and it will be easy after that..." and "Oh good, he has Medicare Plan G".  We were understanding that the first 20 days were paid and it was contingent on evaluations for the following 30 days then we would have to switch to Medicaid.

So, I asked "For clarification, what you're saying is Medicare will pay for this whole thing, until the...end?"  She said yes.  He medically qualifies for Medicare to cover his stay.  

I was relieved that we didn't have to spend all of his money and I didn't have to keep jumping through hoops AND that it was covered.  The end result and/or reason for this had not occurred to me yet.

Then I met the social worker assigned to Dad.  He is fabulous.  I loved him ON SIGHT.  I think Mom and her siblings conspired from the Great Beyond to send this man to us.  He's amazing.

We sat down to go over health issues and concerns and what landed him here in the first place.  We discussed what our expectations were "Safe, healthy and happy" and that we can no longer provide that for him.  He responded with "Of course you can't. It's too much"

Then he asked what Dad likes.  I had to think about it and said "Flirting. He will flirt with all the ladies" which they laughed and said would be fun. Then I said "Sugar.  He loves treats but he's diabetic."  Brandon said "Then we'll give him the treats.  Why not?"

And it was like a punch in the face.  Why not?  Because we're at the end.  Why are we worried about it at this point of life.  Give him the cookie.

Then he reviewed the orders from the hosptial and asked about any appointments.  I mentioned that the hospital advised that he have a follow-up appointment with his regular doctor in  two weeks.  I asked if they felt that was necessary.  Without a beat he said "No, because we got him."

Deep breaths.

Then he asked about a scheduled cardiac stress test and an evaluation for a surgical procedure that was scheduled prior to the accidents. I explained that it was because he was falling all the time and they were  trying to determine a) why and b) do a procedure so if he fell it wasn't a panic situation.  Brandon said "But why? to what end?  He's here now.  He's 85 and at the end of his life. Why would we put him through that?"

I was flooded with relief and with just abject sadness. Mix in a little validation as well.  Moreover, I didn't fully realize until I was walking out of the facility that This is It.  We're at The End.

This is why the hospital didn't keep him.  This is why the hospital didn't have a treatment plan for his blood pressure, fluid on his lungs, and edema.  There is no fixing him now.

I don't remember who it was now, there's been too many people.  They said "You did it. You kept him safe and healthy and home for as long as you could.  Now he'll be safe and happy here.  You did it, you're done now."

It has to be acknowledged that he can "rally" and yes, it's similar to the rally that happens during Hospice.  Even if he did, it would be short-lived.  It would not be enough for him to return home. Even if he suddenly became physically stronger, his mental status would not allow it.  

Because all of that wasn't enough from the Universe.  In the last two days, my father-in-law developed Hospital Delirium.  It's like dementia, caused by an underlying condition and/or trauma.  He has a myriad of underlying conditions - including dementia - and trauma so he is the poster child for this.

It includes memory loss, agitation, and hallucinations; all of which we've experienced with him. For him, it will most likely not resolve because at his age and advanced health and now in a SNF; it's unlikely.  Even if the Delirium resolves, he is not mentally capable enough.

That was the icing on  the cake for the Medically Necessary status determination.  

It also makes this easier because he's not fully cognizant of what's happening.  As far as he's aware, he's just there until "he gets stronger" and our scripted response to questions about the future is "We will worry about that tomorrow" until we run out of tomorrows.

Whiplash and Emotional Damage

 It's been a minute since we've had a Raising Parents story and shew buddy is this a big one.

Earlier this month we made a trip to the Emergency Department because the f-i-l fell AGAIN.  AGAIN. We have genuinely lost count.  AND he won't tell us if he falls and doesn't have a visible mark that makes us ask. This means the amount of falls taken versus the amount  reported are probably vastly different.

What started this was he did an errand for the brother for unknown reasons, and he lifted something heavy out of the van. He fell onto his face, onto the concrete.

He did not call me and I was home all afternoon.

The brother got home at 4:30 and they got into a verbal altercation over the f-i-l being reckless.  What the brother SHOULD HAVE DONE is taken him directly to the E.D.  Then an hour later, sister gets home to an argument and a mess.  STILL NO TRIP TO THE ED.  

I still don't know that any of this has happened. Nor does Kevin.

Then 15-30 minutes later, Kevin gets home to all of the above.  He went next door, came home about ten minutes later after sending me a text with a photo of the f-i-l.  He just sat down at the kitchen counter, speechless.  He is never speechless.  He looked shell-shocked.

The entire right side of f-i-l's face was swollen and his eye shut. It's bloody scraped and there was a softball sized bruise on his forehead/temple.  It was JARRING to see.

Kevin explained what happened and that they - the whole family - argued.  I said "BUT HE HAS TO GO TO THE EMERGENCY DEPARTMENT RIGHT NOW"  Kevin exhaustedly asked did I really think so and I had to take a deep breath.  YES, he should have gone three hours ago when he fell and didn't call me. He should have gone two hours ago when the brother got home and a half hour after that when the sister got home  FTLOGAATHFuck.

He's on blood thinners so this is an Emergency (tip: ask your parents if they're on blood thinners. It's very important to know that, btw)  This fall was worse than his mother's initial fall and that fall is what started the whole going-downhill-to-hospice for her.

He said that WE should take him because they care for him 24/7, and that made me have to focus breathe for a second. Then he said they were elbow-deep in food prep for the wedding they agreed to cater. (a whole other story on a different topic)  Fine, whatever.

We race down to the Emergency Department and he is immediately taken back and a Trauma Code is called. Just like with Kevin's mom, but this one was worse because hers wasn't bleeding and was "only" a knot instead of a softball sized bruise.  They did a stat CT, just like on television, then did all the labs, etc.  He was "fine" and no signs of a concussion but not to take his meds to prevent brain bleed, and to follow up with the doctor. 

Oh, and during all of this, he's being flip, downplaying, and doing the one-shoulder shrug because "I'm fine" GAAAAAAAHHHH

We were there for almost four hours, all said and done, on a weeknight nonetheless. When we arrived home, Kevin took him back into the house.  I didn't go inside because I still wanted to shout WHY DIDN'T YOU TAKE HIM TO THE EMERGENCY DEPARTMENT.

Now we're back to the Waiting for the Bad Thing to Happen. He refuses to use a walker or a cane.  He refuses to stop doing things to avoid falling.  He's done physical therapy and has/had a workout plan at a gym AND he's still falling. We cannot keep him safe and he refuses to try.

But as of that incident, there is a truce next door for now. 

With the siblings, we are a little bit SEE? We told you about this with Mom and you kept saying "She's fine"  Now they're experiencing it first hand so it's their turn. All we can say is "I know, right?"

Oh, and after much debate, it turns out he doesn't want to use a walker because "It's too hard to go pay pills and use a walker."  Which is Old Man Code for "I can't flirt with the ladies if I use a walker."  All.of.the.sighing.

Well, here we are Sunday morning and  Kevin's dad is in the hospital.    He fell at least two times Friday - he initially told me three - and I had to call the ambulance. It was100% self-inflicted. He mowed the siblings yard on the riding lawn mower, got off, bent over to pull weeds and fell.  He said he fell twice outside but now he said he didn't.  He got himself up and into the house.  Where he felt like it was a good idea to TAKE A SHOWER.

Yep, you guessed it.  He fell in the shower.  He again got himself up and mostly dressed then phoned me.  I phoned the ambulance while I was walking over to the house.  He was in his chair and short of breath and confused, then owly.  Because that is my favorite.  

Eleventy paramedics arrived but they went to the parents house first and I had to go get them. So I need to be more specific with 911 next time as it was just habit for the Fire Department and Ambulance to go to their house.

He told them a different story: He only fell twice, he wasn't short of breath, he didn't hit his head, etc.  I walked into the kitchen and mentioned that he was a big fat liar.  They laughed and said that it wasn't unusual in these situations.  I gave them the health history list on my phone (tip: have a notes app with health history on your phone)  and filled in the blanks with what happened, which included shortness of breath, dizziness, and all the things he was saying no to.

They asked him if he ate and he said yes. What did he eat? A banana. In  the morning. It was 2:30 pm.  Had he been drinking water? First he said no, then he said yes "Because they bother me about it." fuuuhhhhhhkkkk.  After this and my stating otherwise, they rephrased the questions or tag-teamed to try and get the real answers.  Finally, they loaded him in the ambulance and took him to the ED.

Now I'm scared, of course, because when I first saw him my reaction was "This is it, this is the end" and I'm pissed because he got owly with me about taking his effing keys with him  AND then lied about what happened.  Like Kevin mentioned: this is the first time that I was completely alone AND in a house I'm not familiar with. (for example: 911 said "Give him aspirin, do you have aspirin?"  I have no idea) 

I met Kevin and the siblings at the hospital and he was in a trauma room but one of the big scary ones.  They did x rays, CAT scans, bloodwork, EKG, checked his pacemaker and all the things.  Then we sat for HOURS without an update. HOURS.  Finally, it took myself and Kevin going Terms of Endearment on them to get an answer. It turns out that they had lost one of the scans.  SIGH.  

He broke his back in one of the falls, L-1 & L-2 vertebra, which is not the tailbone but hurts like the tailbone.  Unrelated and ongoing, he has fluid on his lungs again and his blood pressure was ridiculously high. Oh, and they discovered he probably DID have a concussion from the first fall.  I almost forgot that part amongst all the other issues.

Now it's a full 24 hours later and he was still in  the ED.  They don't have a bed for him in critical care so they're keeping him in a trauma room. No door, just a curtain. No television. Just lay on the bed and think about your choices, old man.  We all took turns visiting but there's nothing to say.  

Oh, and he didn't have his hearing aides in because he was in the shower.  He does the passive agreement thing when he can't hear so he's not answering honestly.  We must have told every single person there multiple times that he can't hear them, to raise their voice & look at him, AND that he will answer incorrectly/lie.  I threated to write "DEAF" in sharpie across his forehead.

They won't treat the fluid fully until he's in critical care so we're hoping that it doesn't go into pneumonia.  Pain management is the only thing they can do with the broken back and so far he's on high dose Oxy then they stepped down to pharmaceutical dose of Tylenol. Because of his blood pressure issues, pain meds are an issue.  He's unable to move on his own, can't get up/roll over/sit up unassisted.  It's a mess.

We had already reached the point that we have to talk to the hospital and the doctors about putting him in a facility. Now we have to insist.  Not only can we not care for him as he needs, we can't trust him to make any sort of a good decision. It's like leaving a preschooler home alone; they know right and wrong but they can't self-regulate.  We will talk to the hospital and his doctors to hopefully facilitate this.

Now he's on the general floor and not CCU as planned. I guess this is good news.  He is assigned a case manager and we're hoping to talk to her today.  But we have obligations here at home so we can't get down there yet.  The siblings also have not gone down to visit him.  Everyone is tired.

But, it also gets worse. I know, how can it get worse, you wonder.

On Wednesday he had a car accident and totaled his van.  He rear-ended a RANGE ROVER at an intersection.  He says that the light turned yellow, she abruptly stopped and he hit her.  I don't know if that's accurate or not.  My instinct is that it's adjacent to accurate. 

The van was impounded and the insurance lady brought him home because he called them INSTEAD OF HIS KIDS.  We sent the insurance agent flowers as a giant thank you. (she didn't know that I lived next door...he didn't tell her)

As far as we know the other driver was uninjured.  However, she was hysterical to the point that they called an ambulance. Because of HIPAA, we won't know if she was indeed injured or under the influence or just having a really bad day. 

That incident had started the Does He Get to Drive Again conversation and now we're thinking it's going to be a moot point.  It will be 90-days healing for his back, of which he will be on pain meds and in no ability to drive. And he doesn't have a car.  

Anyway, back to me, lolsigh: I spent Wednesday afternoon emptying the van of all his belongings and doing the paperwork with the tow company.  Then I had to complete the online claim for the insurance company once I got home and field calls/texts from them on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.  

Because, again, as Kevin said: We are the Power of Attorney & medical proxy because there isn't Mom to help with anything at all. Not saying she was much help but at least she was THERE.  And she could report what was happening and legally had a say as a spouse/go-between.  

This part is out of context and from when I wrote to my BFF but I'm using it because it's important to acknowledge the toll of Raising Parents:

I actually had to walk away and lay on the bed in a corpse yoga pose to prevent an anxiety attack writing this.  Suffice it to say, I'm at my limit.  I'm going to go have KFC for dinner that I bought yesterday for dinner as a treat. MYGAWD. I just can't even.

Everyone is at their limit right now and it's a fervent hope that we can have him a facility to recover. This will give everyone a break and if he does return home, then we can maybe have plans in place. But we will also not  be surprised if they say no and send him directly home.  Medicare will only pay for a facility if it is medically necessary.  This country desperately needs socialized medicine, we are a shining example of why.

So, that has been our July.  It is ironically coincidental that it's the exact month and instance that headed Mom toward Hospice.  

UPDATE: just since writing this, there has been a change.  He's been evaluated and deemed too week and unsafe to discharge home.  He will be going to a skilled nursing facility sometime this week.  After which, it appears that we will be exploring options for a place for him to live.  He is no longer safe living at home.  So, that is both heartbreaking and a relief.

Also: he can't drive anymore.  The social worker was APPALLED and also said that it wasn't our decision to make, it is deemed a medical decision.  So even if he were to manage returning home, he would no longer be independent.

We, along with the poor woman he crashed into, may have whiplash and emotional damage.