my mom

[Greg]

Sleep is for the weak.

[Drunk Monk]

As soon as I left work today, my phone starts blowing up with calls from doctors' offices and various services, OT, PT, SW, juggling appts while I'm driving (automatic speaker phone bluetooths into my cell). The neurosurgeon's office calls, says that he doesn't handle my mom's situation after seeing her MRI and refers to someone else in San Jose (a longer drive) but they don't say any details because the medical system is fucked that way. This goes on after I get home, plus a new OT shows up.  She's nice enough, new, a replacement for someone Stacy said was really good, but this may be her 2nd to last session because all the services vanish next week, unless we decide to continue out-of-pocket. She did offer a good bit of advice tho - taking off the sliding door to the bathroom, which I'll do later this week. It'll make access easier and my mom isn't able to close the door anyway. I email her regular doc to tell her that the DMV disabled plaque form she filled out was rejected because she wrote 'back pain' in the complaint and the form says specifically not to just write 'back pain' right above that blank. My mom's good friend calls, the one who we planned to stay with during the construction but he went into the hospital - he's back home and today is his 90th birthday.  A relative calls, a retired doctor, right in the middle of dinner, which gets cold.  She's been texting me with poor advice, that know-it-all doctorly sort even though she's miles away and cannot see what's going on.  She tells my mom to watch some netflix shows even after my mom says she's not into TV much anymore and doesn't have netflix several times.  My mom has a really bad pain bout tonight.  So hard to bear witness.

So this week, we have the final visits from the services, a doctor's appt with the physiatrist that tortured her last week and fathered the BBT writer, and then home care starts.  Not sure how that will fly, but hopefully I'll get back to the Cruz this weekend.  

I get pretty mad about it all, furious, just rage not directed at anyone or anything, sheer frustration from it all.  It's a brutal Monday really, but not because it's my 8th work day in a row, because coming back to my mom's is wrought with agony and despair.

Thankfully Tara calls and we have a short chat, but I'm not that focused because I can hear my mom panting from the pain. 

Not a good start to this week.

[Greg]

If the sliding door is a pocket, just remember you have to take the casing off around the door and some blocks underneath the casing in order to take off the door.

Sorry for your struggles.

[Drunk Monk]

Nah, it's not a pocket.  It's one of those accordion doors - looks pretty simple to remove actually - just pull a few screws out of the frame.  Even I can do it.

I'm losing it here.  I thought the weekend break would help.  It was a good escape for sure, but last night hit me like a hammer, like 'you're still in the prison cell', ya know?  This week will bring a huge scheduling shift and we'll just see how we all get through it.  Fingers crossed it all goes well.  

I just hope that some pain alleviation can be found from the MRI. My mom can't go on like this.   Witnessing her suffering is just too much to bear.

[The Queen]

I’m reminded of the scene from Terms of Endearment when Shirley McClaine is screaming at the nurses who are not feeling the urgency, to give Debra Winger a shot for her pain. (At least in the movie there was a shot to give her.)

[Drunk Monk]

I don't remember that movie very well and can't recall that scene.

I have pain meds but there's only so much she can take.  She can max out quickly on a bad day.  And that only masks the symptoms.  She's been on a lot of opioids for over two months now and it's really starting to affect her thinking.  It's frustrating because she's fairly deaf, and then can't always process what I'm saying when she does hear it. Usually there's some clarity - she's reading like a fiend and tearing through word puzzle books voraciously, but then sometimes simple chats will elude her.  

We've lined up home care for this weekend, so it all goes well, I'll get to spend some time back in the Cruz.  I'm so hopeful for that right now because I'm beyond breaking point.

[King Bob]

Didn't she have surgery too? In older people memory is strongly affected by anesthetics for a long time; some say up to a year. My mom was a mess after her hip replacement.

[Drunk Monk]

Yeah, my mom definitely has opioid memory moments, like asking me something that I just told her.  That, on top of her hearing issues, drives me nuts.  I know I should be more compassionate, but I'm at wit's end.  I just can't take it anymore.  

Today was my mom's appt with the physiatrist, the one who's daughter just got a write up in Variety for sealing a major post-Big Bang Theory deal.  We got there right on time, but my mom's pain levels were the worst ever.  I had given her extra meds but they didn't hold.  As we waited in the lobby, she was panting and clutching her knee in a semi-fetal position with her hands all gnarled into ginger roots from arthritis, occassionally chanting to herself 'don't move...don't move' and trembling from the pain waves.  The rest of the patients in the waiting room were respectfully quiet, worried and surely feeling awkward. We got into the exam room and my mom was barely coherent from the pain.  We just had to sit and wait. The doc came in and saw her condition, then went to fast track an appt with a neurosurgeon.  That took forever.  She was there for well over an hour in intense excruciating pain, and there was nothing I could do but be with her.  

I rushed her home and once she got settled, she was okay.  I went back to the hospital to get a fixed DMV form for disabled parking (her Doc gave her chief complaint as 'back pain' which she doesn't have and is expressly stated right above that blank not to fill it our with 'back pain') and the MRI & X-rays for the new neurosurgeon, fast tracked for tomorrow at El Camino first thing in the morning.  Hopefully it'll go better.  It's a consultation, and of course it totally mucks up our schedule because tomorrow is to be the first home care visit, with others coming in over the weekend so I can get back to the Cruz for a few days.  Tomorrow night we have tix for a show and dinner reservations.  This is the re-do from my missed birthday celebration a month ago.  So I'm really hoping tomorrow's appt results in a scheduled surgical procedure for next week and not tomorrow.  We shall see.

I just tore that accordion door down off the downstairs bathroom.  It was relatively easy and I got it off whole, so it could be replaced easily.  

We also had the final visit from our PT, plus our OT, which I cancelled, phoned back to say that was the final too.  If another surgery happens, the rehab cycle starts all over again.  If not, we're on our own now.

[Drunk Monk]

Friday started with this consultation first thing in the morning.  We got to the facility at the appointed time - 15 min prior to our appt - but it wasn't open and no one is there. The lobby had an automated reception, one of those large touch-screen menu things, but the new Doc's name didn't show when searched by either his name or specialty. I finally found it by doing a complete file search. Of course, the office wasn't open because we were the first appt. so we waiting in the hallway.

Note that my mom's pain levels are exacerbated by sitting.  She can only sit up for a few minutes, enough to eat and use the bathroom, then the pain sets in.  For these appts, she must sit in the car and then her wheelchair until we can actually get into the exam room where she can lay on the table, but getting on to and off of that table is a trial each time.  

The Doc comes in and starts consulting when the receptionist informs us that we're out of system. Insurance doesn't cover - my mom is under PAMF and that only covers part of El Camino, which is where this specialist is.  Fuck.  The Doc was courteous and gave an 'off the record' opinion, which was that there may be an additional underlying issue with her hip. He recommends that we go straight to ER, but being in EC, that's such a gamble because if the surgeon on duty is not covered by PAMF, it's all out-of-pocket (only some of them are - we lucked out last time - I'm not sure why she went to EC to begin with but it was my cousin who made that call).  I suspect that was a CYA anyways.

I get my mom home and she settles down. This was the first day of home care and I leave for work, planning not to return until Tuesday, planning to go home for the weekend.

I get a call from Dr Ferrari's office.  They've set up a stat MRI appt for today based on the consulting specialist's off-the-record opinion.  Fuck.

I do some juggling and get that switched to Monday eve, which means I'll go back a little sooner than planned, but at least I have the weekend.

Home care has begun.  Stacy met the first caretaker and really liked her.  There's different caretakers every day through Tuesday. The Monday one will be cut short because of the MRI, but that's the same one as yesterday and we've already cleared it with her.  Then Tuesday and Wednesday, more appts. Tuesday's will overlap with a homecare provider, but she can accompany us to the appt, because they can do that - they can even take my mom to appts but I really need to go because I know her medical record and am her health proxy, and she's usually too incoherent from the pain to answer the doc or fill out any forms.  

So I get a weekend.  And I'm so grateful to be home now.

[Drunk Monk]

Just one fucking day off.  Is that so much to ask?

First I forgot to mention that yesterday, after the non-covered non-specialist appt, I went to work after dropping my mom back at her home.  Just as I start relaxing into work chipping a banging out a few odd writings, Ferrrari's office called to set up an appointment for another MRI and visit.  I'm like fuck, we just got the fucking weekend set up so I can fucking go home.  When?  It's late April and I'm like 'cool'.  Then the stat call came for today, followed by a mad scramble to reschedule that via phone trees, etc.  

This morning, Stacy went to yoga and I went to Kung Fu.  It was great to work out again with my Cruz crew.  When we got back around noon, Stacy had been contacted by the care service that the caretaker had an emergency and had to cancel. FUCK! Mind you, that was a one-time caretaker - the rest will be regular.  Fortunately, my mom's neighbor came in for the save - he's trusted and has a key - he gets her lunch and sees to her needs.  We should all have neighbors as good as him.  A replacement caretaker is supposed to arrive at 4 to take care of my mom through dinner (it's meals when she needs help now). I'm like 'cool'.  Stacy went on a hike in Nisene.  I was craving downtown because I had a stack of DVDs to trade for some new music and I was looking for a plant to replace the office plant that G2 & J tossed even though I told them I had made a space for it and even secured the nice plant stand for it. The trees on Pacific are in full bloom, with petals drifting down like Japanese sakura.  Tourists are polite and music is in the air from the buskers. Just what I needed. I have some lovely poke at Abbott square, and trade my DVDs for the new Billie Ellish and Jerry on the Eel.  Very satisfactory.  Then I get a text from the neighbor at around...well 4:20 - no caretaker yet.  Srsly? WTFUUUUCCCCKKKK?!  The caretaker shows up a little later, so I'm like 'cool'.

I was really hoping for just one day when I didn't have to deal with my mom's issues.  Just one.  Maybe tomorrow.

[Legbone]

Btw, Gene if you do need someone to chop your head off in the ritual suicide thing, I volunteer my services. I know several of the other members maybe more qualified but what I lack in skill, I make up in enthusiasm. I think yeti and our dear administrator maybe able to sever it in one stroke, I prefer rusty tools.

[Dr. Ivor Yeti]

Legbone, follow your bliss!

[Greg]

Legbone is a good friend.

[Drunk Monk]

You guys are all assholes.  You know that, right?  And I love y'all for that.

You know, in my teen/early twenties, when I was having suicidal thoughts, I became immersed in Bushido literature, and made a pact with myself that if I should ever choose suicide, it'll be like Mishima - seppuku.  That's a hard way to go.  I don't even like pricking myself for my diabetic tests. So I'm still here.  

And worthy of note, I trained the seppuku assistant cut.  Srsly.  It's a part of iaido kata, which I undertook in my latter-SJSU & UCSC years.  And I've done cutting, probably more than all of DOOM combined, on TV no less.  I AM THE 6MS MAN!

So if any of you need help...

[Greg]

Come back from the dark side, brother.

My finger tips are just holes loosely connected by tissue at this point.