5 days equal 5 weeks

 A nurse from my health insurance company gave me this formula. For every day you spend in the hospital you'll need a week of recovery once you go home.

So I've completed the first week of 5. Geese, I don't have a life, again. (I wrote this on Thursday, and by Friday I did feel a lot better!)

I'm having dizzy spells, hanging onto furniture. Who me, anxious? Heart, lungs, skin, pulse ox, blood pressure, nebulizer, therapeutic vest, pills, pills, pills! Go to tests for this and that. Calls to and from nurses, insurance, appointment schedulers...when do I have time to just be myself?

Warning - a long discussion leading nowhere follows. 

There was the scary certified letter Wednesday. The mailman comes to your door and you have to sign that you've received the letter. It is like a legal document. Why? This was from the hospital from which I'd been discharged just a week before. OK, maybe they thought I could pay the bill myself, instead of the insurance company. I signed. And stood inside my apartment and opened it. 

La dee da- a standard Dear Patient form letter, with attached "Important Message from Medicare" - in bold face type. It has to do with discharge from the hospital.

I read quickly through the form letter from Medicare, about appealing something.

I go back to the first one...read more carefully. Look for any dates regarding all this. None anywhere. Not even on the envelope. Appeal what?

Why did I get it?

What's it referring to? Somehow the forms refer to being discharged before I felt I'd received adequate care. Being a form letter, it says 

"if you want to appeal (regarding discharge too soon or not feeling medically able to go home) you must contact the Quality Improvement Organization no later than the day of discharge, before leaving the hospital." (underline mine!)

Methinks this is another one of those "they doth protest too much."

QIO isn't given any reference in the letter. Incidentally, there's no way to contact them. Incidentally, I was discharged a whole week before receiving this form letter! 

Oh the Medicare Important Message form does give some QIO numbers and how to appeal your Hospital Discharge (even after deadline - with your Medicare health plan.)

Ah ha. I remember news stories now that this hospital has been sanctioned by Medicare. Maybe this is what it's all about.

Nothing to do with me. I received a discharge summary. I've since reviewed the discharge with my primary physician. What a load of baloney! 

My doctor made sure I had followed his orders (I think, by setting up oxygen at home.) Wait wait. The oxygen wasn't set up until the second day after I went home. Perhaps this is his CYA (cover your ass, if you never ran into that before)! He did say he didn't want me coming back to the hospital with anything related to not having oxygen that first night. Well, I've had it.

And I've doubly HAD IT with this hospital! Ever since HCA bought it out, and half the specialty doctors left, and then all the subsidiary doctors have been brought into their corporate umbrella, it has not done well with the local population. Almost all the nursing staff and technicians are "Traveling Nurses." They used to be called Temps. But they actually work for HCA and are housed by the corporation in towns where they're employed, and apparently put out bids for where and how much they'll work. My phlebotomist was from Sarasota FL and bids for 3 or 4 days a week, a month at a time, here in Asheville, and gets well paid.

I really have had very good care, except for the construction noise the last day. Wait wait, I filled in a survey and said that, and then this letter arrived.

---------------

I really needed this...

Daily Om gave this little helpful reminder last Thursday. 

These small moments can help rebuild a sense of safety, reminding you that calm is still available, even in difficult moments.

When anxiety takes over, it can feel as though your mind has raced far ahead of you, spinning worst-case scenarios, what-ifs, and stories that leave you feeling dysregulated. Somatic grounding offers a way back to center. Rather than asking you to think your way out of this overwhelming moment, it invites you to return to your body — and to the stillness of the present. Part of what makes these practices so comforting is how simple they are. You do not need perfect techniques, a special ritual, or hours of free time. Even small acts — feeling your feet on the floor, relaxing your shoulders, or noticing the rise and fall of your breath — can help interrupt the spiral and bring you back to yourself. Over time, these small moments can help rebuild an internal sense of safety, reminding you that calm is still available, even in difficult moments. Try this gentle practice: Sit somewhere comfortable, and let both feet rest on the floor. Notice the steady support beneath you. Place one hand over your heart and the other over your belly. Take a slow breath in. Then let your exhale be long and easy. Slowly look around the room and rest your eyes on three things you can see. Let yourself arrive here and be held by this moment. May it offer you a small but meaningful sense of peace to carry with you through the rest of your day