EVERYTHING I DON'T KNOW

 

I have a lot to tell and many possible updates. But presently -  and truthfully - I know as little about my current existence as you do.

Everything here is a frustrating puzzle, a wandering maze of uncertainty. I feel to be in a permanently suspended limbo.

The uncertainty is maddening and infuriating.

My insurance finally stopped covering physical therapy at the end of March. I had two choices - - being kicked out of here on my butt, or to be taken into custody with Hospice. I had an endlessly rambling talk with them yesterday, signed a frighteningly large amount of papers.

It was like forfeiting my life to the grim reaper. They don't expect me to be dying, but they sure as hell want to take my life over while I'm still alive.

What about physical therapy? It seems to be suspended....until??

I'm admittedly clueless and confounded. I feel.......disconnected.

I'm still on an enormous amount of meds.

I still have no updates concerning the biopsy of the"non-cyst" on my arm. It was sent to Florida yesterday (????why????).

When the wound care doctor changed bandages on my arm yesterday, it bled so much that it had to be cauterized. Another wound that I have bled enormously, too.

I figured out why.....

It's because they're giving me blood thinners twice a day. I told the head nurse, so she suspended them for now.

The "non-cyst" on my arm is not looking good.....without horrifying you with details, they now have me on a strong antibiotic (lexofloxacin).

I still have to take at least a dozen (or more) meds once or twice a day.

My "normal" existence has long left me, ladies and gentlemen. I am now fully suspended in the Twilight Zone.

At least my pain isn't as intense as it used to be.

Ever since I had that three week bout with the flu (or whatever) my appetite has dwindled and I'm tired all the time.

At least I finally stopped coughing.

I'm still wondering why I was moved into another room. I've heard several versions.

I was told that my first room was in a noisy location, which was true. It was right by the nurse's station and the maintenance room. 

I was also told something about an elderly lady who constantly falls down and would be safer in my previous room.....????.....

what the hell....you figure it out.

I was't told anything about that ancient munchkin in the wheel chair who let the air out of my mattress (read my previous blog post).

I presently exist by finding diversions from my misery - - like writing in this blog. And buying things that I don't need.

This new ring with an orange gemstone that I got from a jeweler in London.....and this four-hundred year old cross that I got from an archaeologist in L.A.

The cross could be over 400 years old. It was carefully preserved and is in remarkably good condition.

I'm presently wearing both.

And I bought a Samsung tablet, which I hopefully can use more often than my phone.

It was delivered yesterday. Samsung never includes things like a USB cable adapter or MicroSD card (or whatever)....so I ordered them seperately.

When it comes to technology, I'm about fifty years behind.

The tablet has an eleven inch screen, which is larger than what I wanted - - but the price was right and I had next day free delivery.

Here's the tablet, still in the box.

I can only imagine your excitement.

Thanks for reading this. I truly appreciate it.

Jon  💙  

Is it April already?

SOS - - DEFLATION!

 It seems that nothing exciting could happen in a physical therapy facility in rural Tennessee.

The days are boring, mundane, routine. The patients (or residents) here seem to fall into two catagories.

People with one foot in the grave and the other foot on a (proverbial) banana peel.

And people like me. Haphazard victims of fate, that were viciously singled out to be plagued with more horrifying physical ailments than Job.

Not job - - like working at the Dairy Queen.

I'm talking the biblical Job. The man whom God tortured the hell out of.

But, I'm going off course (as usual).

Anyway, on Wednesday (I think two days ago) there was a spark of excitement here that could have ignited a forest fire.

There was a flurry of activity. Nurses, nurse's aides, and maintenance workers were scurrying around.

Somebody came into my room and mumbled something about moving me.

Moving? Did I hear right?

Was the insurance company finally going to kick me out? Was I going back to Cookeville?

About an hour later, half a dozen people burst into my room. They quickly started gathering up my meager possessions. They even took the large wooden "nightstand" next to my bed.

What's going on? I wondered out loud.

We're moving you to another room, somebody answered.

Somewhat relieved. At least I won't be out on the street.

They wheel me and my entire bed out of the room, quickly down the hall, into another room.

I was formerly 601. Now I'm 609.

It looks the same as my other room. My bed was put by the window, which I like.....

....except there are absolutely hideous curtains on the window.

Looks like they were taken from a long - abandoned funeral parlor.

Oh well, this ain't the Ritz.

The adventure isn't over. Don't leave yet.

I eventually discovered that they were moving numerous people to different rooms. And I discovered very soon.

Apparently there was an old woman who previously had my room. And she thinks it's still hers.

I was having lunch when she wheeled in my room, in her wheel chair.

She's a tiny old lady, the size of a Munchkin. Frail and bent over. A pink knitted cap over her head.

My guess is that she's 103.

I'm not very congeneal, especially when I'm eating lunch in a new room.

I forced myself to say a friendly "Hello".

She looked up at me, startled, backed up - - and zoomed out of the room in reverse.

I never saw anyone go so fast, backwards, in a wheelchair. I sure as heck couldn't do it.

Thank Gawd she's gone. Hope she never returns......

.......until I finished lunch. Thinking about using the urinal. Good thing I didn't. 

Here she is again!

She looked up, saw me - - put the chair in reverse and zoomed out. 

A nurse caught her, told her she was in the wrong room. Guided her away.

Should I mention that she came back into my room several more times within an hour.

I was getting annoyed. But I was drowsy. I fell asleep.

I hope you're not drowsy. The best part is yet to come.

I was suddenly awakened by a big BANG and a popping noise. I heard a rude rush of leaking air.

What the.....I couldn't believe my myopic eyes.

The wheelchair lady was back! At the foot of my bed! Somehow she messed with the mysterious box at the foot of my bed - - - -

She was letting the air out of my air mattress!!!

As I tried to register what was happening - - she somehow grabbed my walker, which was near the window.

SOMEHOW

She was dragging the walker while she was going in reverse in the wheelchair!!!!

She got out of the room while I was shouting for help. My bed was sinking like the Titanic. I frantically pressed the "HELP"  button by my bed for assistance.

A nurse's aide came in, saw me sinking, and said she didn't know what to do. She would call a nurse.

A nurse??? Holy macaroni - -

A 103 year old munchkin stole my walker and let the air out of my mattress. Could it be any worse???

The nurse took one helluva long time to get here. By the time she showed up, I was on the metal frame of the bed - - three inches from the floor.

I was babbling about what happened. The nurse had a bewildered expression and very few words. Was she in shock.....or trying to keep from laughing?

She eventually got my mattress pumped up again.

Hours later, my shock subsided. By then the bizarre incident seemed incredibly funny.

It could only happen to me.

How many people could have a 103 year old munchkin come into their room, steal their walker, and let the air out of their mattress?

I never saw the pint sized culprit again. And I hope I never will.

Jon ❤️     

bewildered, to say the least

This is a long post, but I just had to tell it. Fact is stranger than fiction.

BTW never got my walker back.