I Simply Do Not Understand Medicaid.

I don't. I really don't. I was able to get Ms. J enrolled in Supplemental Security Income (SSI), which I was told would automatically qualify her for Medicaid and thus make her eligible for all sorts of help. Now, you can only imagine how happy I was to find out that we may be able to get some of her care paid for. I think I really did jump up and down. I know for a fact that I screamed like a little girl and waved my hands around Wallace & Grommit-style.

However, here we are a good two months post-SSI approval, and no Medicaid info has come our way. We had a Medicaid nurse visit last week, who told us that we would need to get a waiver to apply for more hours and equipment since Ms. J requires so much care. Okay. Five calls to three separate offices later, I am still none-the-wiser. What would elderly folks do in a situation like this if they have no one to speak for them? I find it absolutely incredible that it is this complicated. Way to go, government bureaucracy.

I don't even know if I fully understand this process, and I would like to think that I'm a reasonably intelligent person. There needs to be a flowchart of some kind showing the different avenues to the right end. Or something. I wish I knew.

Here in this state, it seems to go like so:
1. Spend 5000 hours collecting paperwork for Medicaid. This seems to include, but not be limited to, 2 years worth of ALL bank statements, proof of all assets such as property, cattle, vehicles, jewelry, lock-boxes, savings accounts and any and all gold teeth, nuggets, or krugerrands you might have lying around. This is, of course, to demonstrate an individuals need for assistance. Fine. Whatever. They need documentation. We get it.

2. Spend 5000 hours looking through the government pages in the phone book for anything related to help for the elderly.

3. Spend another 5000 hours on the phone to 5000 more offices trying to figure out what the hell is going on and who to speak to next, only to be sent off to your 5000th voicemail to some woman named Betty.

4. Wait.

5. Imagine spiders spinning webs under and around your unmoving, immobile form as you wait two weeks for Betty to return your calls.

6. Wait longer. They are so busy!

7. Start creating picket signs in your free time. If Betty won't come to you, you'll go to her.

8. Start a one-man protest outside of The Office of Public Assistance in the hopes Betty might condescend to throw a glance in your general direction. ("We need pay! For Ms. Jay!")

9. Be escorted back to your vehicle by an armed guard named Fred. Fred warns you in a jocular tone not to get your panties in a bundle. You hate Fred. And also the word "panties."

10. End up back at home, slumped over in an E-Z chair, letting the cat chew on your arm. Why stop the bloodshed?


Maybe not all of that has actually happened, but you get the idea. Point is, I am on a mini-vacation at Barnes & Noble today because I cannot deal with one more call to this Betty person. One of Ms. J's care-givers is there today, so I sit here on my computer, listening to music, with a stack of kids books and comics nearby. For the moment, I am content.

Betty, if you're out there...you know my number.

That Darn Cat

I left a cupboard door open this evening, which H saw as an invitation to go exploring. And that she did. She climbed in and somehow broke a Corningware dish into a million different pieces. I have no idea how she managed that.

Oh, Dad.

A conversation that just happened between my father and me, after he came from outside and saw me for the first time all day.

Dad: "Woah, you look terrible! Like, really awful!"

Me: "Uh..."

Dad: "No, really. Those circles under your eyes? SO DARK. Wow. I am in awe."

Me: "Um."

Dad, raising his thumbs: "No, REALLY. Thumbs UP! You are totally detoxing. That is GREAT!"

Me: "Thanks."

Dad: "You know, though...that you're only scratching the surface of your toxin level, though. Sorry to remind you of that."

Me: "..."


And thus concludes a regular conversation that you might hear any day of the week in this household. Good Lord.

Kidney Cleanse

My dad has been urging me for quite some time to try this Dr. Schultz Kidney Cleanse, and I decided this week was the time to do it. I rue the decision. RUE! It's really not all that bad, except for the headaches, fatigue, and nausea-inducing tea. The cleanse is five days long. Day one and five allow raw fruits and vegetables. Days two, three, and four only allow diluted fresh juices. And the tea. The horrible, wretch-worthy tea.

The tea probably isn't that abhorrent to most folks, but both the smell and taste remind me of a dieter's tea I used take years ago. It is awful, gut-busting stuff. Anything reminiscent of it makes me want to hurl. Did I mention that six cups must be ingested throughout the day? In addition to a gallon of water and detox tonic? Awesome.

So anyway, I am hungry, but that's not the worst part. I don't even mind the hunger-pains. It's just the lethargy. I would like to just sleep through the next three days, but I cannot do that of course. I had supposed that it couldn't be worse than having to do care-giving while having H1N1. (Indeed it is much easier, though still very unpleasant.) Have I told you about that, yet? I will have to play catch-up and include that one in here.

I am going to keep taking this one day at a time, enjoying the moment each night when I can cross the day off the calendar.

I am finding that I am crankier during this time than I have been in a while. I really feel badly about it. The whole reason I agreed to the cleanse was because of how long this illness had drug on, and I do know from experience that fasting can indeed get rid of a cold or flu faster than just about anything. Also, clean kidneys are supposed to result in clearer skin. Well, we shall see.

The things we do in the name of vanity...and clear sinuses.

Sickly

The reason, I've been gone, is because I've been sick for about three weeks now. Prior to that, I was going nuts with Christmas prep. Not only was I trying to make all the gifts for my own family, but I also had to do gifts for two other families.

Speaking of X-Mas, Ms. J's caregiver and I also took her shopping in the most ridiculous weather (I think the storm dropped about a foot of snow). Still, we managed to get her to the mall in a nearby town and also to a local clothing store. The local store is Ms. J's favorite place in the world to buy gifts. They carry nice clothes and lovely western gifts, so it can often be a one-stop-shop...even though she usually spends WAY too much money in the process.

Anyway, lot of late nights left me with a nasty sinus infection that has since moved throughout the rest of my body. Head, nose, ears, throat...now the insidious thing is resting in my upper lungs. So lame. Oh, AND I had also was the recipient of a full-body detox rash after taking the herbal supplement Lobatium. It was harmless, but it looked simply awful. I was hideous. And itchy. Well, only partially so. For some reason, the rash started at my ankles and was mostly contained in that one spot. It took about four days for it to go away.

I still haven't been to the doctor. I've been taking every natural supplement Dad has provided (including the rash-inducing one) so as to cure the damn thing myself, but it still isn't going away. He thinks it's all keeping me from getting walking pneumonia, but I have my doubts. I am using a neti pot twice a day, filled with a mixture of colloidal silver, Celtic sea salt, iodine, virgin coconut oil and distilled water. I gargle with a similar solution twice a day, morning and night, am taking C, B, D, Zinc, more iodine, Detoxygen, and GABA and Melatonin at night to sleep. Oh, and the cherry on top: a humidifier spiked with peroxide for nighttime. It has bleached both my hair and my eyebrows, something I just noticed day before yesterday. I am slightly redheaded right now.

I know I could beat this thing if I could just get some good sleep. If it isn't stress keeping me awake, it's Ms. J (not her fault!) and her needs. I just can NOT seem to get good sleep for the life of me. The GABA and Melatonin has helped slightly, but not enough to KEEP me asleep. I don't know what to do.

Anyway, so that's that.

Sorry for the Hiatus

Since only one person out there knows this blog exists, I am sure I don't have many heartbroken readers out there. I am glad in a way, since I haven't been on here in about a month. I've been struggling with whether or not to go public with this thing. I don't want to tell family, since there are many intimate details in the postings that might rob Ms. J of her dignity. So, if I do let more people know, I need to go about it in a way that preserves privacy. Or, I may just keep this to myself. I truly think that this experience could be made into a very good book, and this could serve as my journal. (First things first, though. I need to be better about posting. I always think I will remember the details, but one never does.)

So anyway, ONE PERSON OUT THERE (you know who you are), sorry I haven't been around. I will do better.

Some Nights...

...are so bad, all you can do is cry. When frustration overwhelms you after hours of trying in vain to get your loved one comfortable and to sleep, all you can do is sit somewhere where no one can hear you and let it all out. Frustration leads to guilt, then to sadness. Cleaning and cooking all day, in addition to back pain, lack of sound sleep and general stress does not mix well with the late-night routine your loved one has somehow acquired.

Would that I could just get her comfortable and to sleep before 1 am and perhaps through the night till at least 9 or 10 without any interruptions. Both for her and for me...really. I am not just saying this for myself. She has been exhausted, depressed, and extremely needy all day long. Adequate sleep could perhaps fix that.

I wish these days didn't happen...days when you are sure that you simply cannot do it any more. Days where you can't stand to hear the sound of her cries that come literally every 60 seconds for something that she doesn't actually need or even remember once you come to her side after working on something else that she had just asked you do do a minute prior. Nights where you don't even want to go near her door because you know you will have to do something crazy like move toes or move the sheet a literal half-an-inch in order to make her happy until she calls for you again in 30 seconds after you've already laid down and then asks you to cover her mouth with the blanket because her mouth opens during the night and gets all dry but you can't of course because she may suffocate since she doesn't get a lot of deep breaths in anyway but she insists and you have to come up with increasingly creative reasons not to do the crazy things she is asking you to and you can't say no to her because hey, let's face it, this is your Grandmother, the lady that raised you half your life and all you want is for her to be happy and comfortable but no matter what you do you know you can't because not only do her crazy demands never actually do any good or even make her happy, you cannot really control someone's happiness and then it is just all too much again.

But I suppose that if we didn't have these days we would never appreciate the good ones. The ones where you get to laugh with her and watch Pride & Prejudice again and take her shopping or to a restaurant with the best quiche in town. The ones where you feel so lucky to be able to spend this time with her, knowing that others may regret the time they did NOT spend. Then, with this perspective, it becomes slightly more bearable.