Monday, April 6, 2015

Monday Morning Beach Report

Post-holiday Emptiness


It was quite a bit busier in Pillville. We had a meeting with the case manager. I was barraged with phone calls from the medical equipment place. Due to the ins and outs of who pays for what, we must get rid of my mom's current hard won hospital bed and get a different one. We have to change out the oxygen concentrator too. It all has to do with who will pay for what, and hospice has its own pipeline. I really have no beef with that basic concept (well, I do, really, but never mind) but I did draw a line in the sand when I got the call that said the bed was about to be delivered, and I was having my time off, and the caregiver told me my mom was napping in her current bed. The medical supply office called me twice. When would I be home? The driver called me once. Why wasn't I home? And why wouldn't my mom's caregiver let him in?  I called the hospice case manager and asked for her help. She jumped in and sent the guy with the truck idling in my driveway AWAY. It's all funny, really. First we couldn't get the fucking hospital bed a year ago, and now they're beating down the door to give us another one.

Here's the best Pillville news today. My mom looks radiant. Most of her pain is gone. She feels good. She's a bit dreamy. While I was fixing dinner, she asked me if I remembered the time we stopped at the baseball diamond. She was sitting at the table with her martini, halfway between real life and dream life. For some crazy reason, she dreams a lot about baseball. I have absolutely nothing to say that can explain that.




4 comments:

37paddington said...

It's fascinating to me how real life and dream life begin to merge. I think we become more open as we age. Glad your mom is on the upswing.

Ms. Moon said...

Pain control can be everything.
How ridiculous not to let a woman the age of your mother take whatever makes her feel better.
I am so glad you're on this new path, even if there are going to be absurdities.

Not Blank said...

Ridiculous that hospice would insist on a new bed, but I'm all in favor of being pain free.

Elizabeth said...

I am so glad that your mother looks radiant and that she's comfortable and drinking her martini. The rest of it IS like a dream -- or a Beckett play.