Relief and working

 It's like the drain which has been stuck has finally been released.

The manager emailed that I can move in on the date we wanted to (last week of July) and she said that I can sign the lease on that day and pay the rent starting that day! So Durango it is!

Whoo hoo!

I notified all my family and friends (and now you!) that I'm moving to Durango!

I'm so relieved that they figured things out so well! (Finally!)

And now I've got a zillion boxes half full, trying to figure out how books and silverware and dishes and clothes and pottery will all go together to be stacked in a little U-Haul truck in a bit over a month.

And having a real address to forward mail and so forth, I can actually give my notice here at the present apartment...a bit more than 30 days. But I know someone will move into this place quickly. The present management also won't charge me for the remaining month on my lease, because of the demand. I waited a year to get this apartment, and just the same for the one in Durango. Having some housing for low-income seniors is a premium need everywhere.

Hey real-estate people who've been building MacMansions teetering on the highest slopes of the mountains...there are a zillion people turning 70 and 80 who need a place to live. We survived lots and saved and paid our social security, and now there's not much money left to match the life left (with or without medical needs!)

And I'm working again...moving throughout the apartment with different tasks about half completed. There's a packed tupperware tub on the bed, ready to be put on the floor in the dining area. But first I need to vacuum that carpet. I just moved the table out to the middle of the floor so I can start stacking boxes and tubs over at the wall in the dining area. And the passthrough needs to be cleared off, with all that stuff to pack, then clean the passthrough well. It's not been touched for quite a while. So it should be the first thing to do.

But I've also only packed some books that remain...there are pottery books to give to the studio where I used to work. And some for the library, and perhaps some for a "little library." So it's time to get going back to work!

So what has gone down the drain (which was plugged up?) My anxiety while waiting for this manager and all her "rules." There's about a handful of anxiety still left, since I haven't signed a lease yet...and we do have over 1700 miles to drive pulling the car behind the truck and stay overnight in motels. Tai will fly here and has a couple of friends who will help load the truck. 

Also I feel the relief across my shoulders and neck...things are going to work out. Right now the google mail app keeps telling me its "update failed." So I will copy and paste this again if need be...hope that works!

Signing off for today. Will post some words and images probably from the internet every day if I don't do my usual coffee and blog reading! Who am I kidding. Coffee and blogs get my blood going in the morning!

Sharing with Thankful Thursday

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.

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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

Just the facts.

 Just a short catch-up. If you're not into medical details of an elder, just skip this post. I think I've given just the facts, with perhaps a bit of my feelings. But not the details of the medical terms!

My MRI cardiac stress test was last Friday. I had had to reschedule from the last time scheduled, because I couldn't even drive to the hospital from anxious nausea.

My anxiety was definitely better going into the MRI, but about 3/4 way through I had lots of trouble breathing, so they pulled me out and kept saying my oxygen level looked ok. But I kept saying, I can't breathe! I really felt lots of coughing. But no clearing. Finally I said, I think it's an asthma attack, and the nurse went to my purse and got my inhaler. 

Ah ha. That did it, and I could finish the test. Of course they had already given me the antidote to the stressing meds...but they did finish another 5 minutes of MRI.

The Patient Portal shows just a few things, but I still haven't talked with the cardiologist, so I don't quite understand them. Apparently nothing worth a call that day from him.

But I had already scheduled the pulmonologist visit later in the afternoon, because I was always feeling short of breath. Just bending over or walking around the apartment made me panting. They did a walking test to see my oxygen level, and decided I could start having oxygen both portable and while sleeping. A big thing, but if it helps, I'll be glad of it.

They're also putting me back on the same antibiotic again, since I was wheezing away when just sitting still. With steroids this time. Whee!

So they also want me to use the "thera-vest" which shakes my torso to loosen up the mucus. I admit to having not used it much in the last few months. And to start back on a med that I'd tried doing without. Of course that may well have contributed to the shortness of breath - duh. So add another inhaler and the 15-20 min on the vest thing, and start using oxygen. I haven't even started the new drug for bronchiectasis...and will wait another week of taking antibiotic, just to make sure any side effects are just from it.

I'm not thrilled about more stuff to have to treat the condition my condition is in.

These are the exact words I said to my friend in an email that evening. I noticed that as tired as I was, it was really difficult to sleep. Though the nurse assured me the medicine which made my heart think it was exercising strenuously had been gone from my system, I think this old body was still somewhat stimulated. I also had very little appetite.  I'm slightly befuddled and discombobulated...just very out-of-sorts!

And the good news is my attitude changed. I had survived the ordeal. And I was just going to keep on keeping on no matter what medicine told me was needed. But I woke up Saturday morning (after at least 2 hours of wakefulness in early hours) and told myself I loved myself! What a good feeling!

So I'll share some pretty photos now...not of myself!

Heavy frost on the roof of the building downhill from me, and a few blossoms on the trees barely visible in morning sun Friday morning.

Same view Sunday shows the Bradford pear has bloomed.

Waiting for MacD's where I stopped for lunch Friday.

Mission Hospital. The windows on the second floor on far left are right outside the MRI and other radiology labs.  

I took these shots while leaving.

I had spoken of my difficulty finding parking and walking to the entrance originally when the scheduling happened. That was a main source anxiety. It wasn't until my confirmation phone call the day before that they told me there was a valet service, and it was "gratis." And once inside the hospital I checked in right at that door and they wheeled me around in a wheelchair to get to the next place to go. If only they had told me these details the first time, the anxiety would have been much lower!

To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle, every cubic inch of space is a miracle…

WALT WHITMAN

The Wednesday rant about DST

With daylight savings time CHANGE this last weekend, as usual my sleep patterns lag behind the hours.

"At night our fear is strong... but in the morning, in the light, we find our courage again."

MALALA YOUSAFZAI

I'm grateful that I have not had the dealings that Malala Yousafzai has had to face in her young life living with the Taliban. My nighttime battles have been mainly with the changes of aging, allergies, sleep apnea and a C-PAP machine, bladder retention, neighborhood noises of apartment living (and a train nearby that I'm almost used to) and bronchial problems which lead to coughing, oh, and not to forget anxieties which come out of nowhere and give me thought racing.

So I'm feeling under-rested and somewhat looking forward to today's activities. In a few more minutes, after a relaxing hot shower and soothing breathing exercises, I'll be ready to face the laundromat, the vacuum, the preps for clay work and friends visiting to watch a movie together, and I will know that this is a good day.  Even if the clock is skewed silly, it's spring in the mountains.  The sun came up again (at it's appointed time!) and there are no clouds (sort of hazy though) in the sky.

I will try to remember my mantra which I used to say upon waking "It's another day given to me in this lifetime."