Update about blogCa

Who knew all this would happen afterwards! Moon-set from Mission Hospital room Sept.8, 2025
Showing posts with label hospital administration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hospital administration. Show all posts

Sunday, July 12, 2020

Life and water

I must add a bit of sharing my life here too. A day where I admitted I felt a bit depressed, I had talked for a while with a friend who had some good thoughts for me.

Then I had a call from someone at the parent hospital of the caridiac program's administration, I think she said Pre-registration, last Monday. She wanted to confirm my appointment for Rehab, for next Thurs the 16th at 11. I said no, I had an appointment on Tues the 14 at 1:30. And she told me a referring doctor named Brian. I've never seen a Brian in my cardiology treatment.

I should have known she was off base from the get go. She didn't ask my birthdate, just that "Was this was Barbara Rogers?" That's usually a bad omen. It got worse.

She informed me my insurance wouldn't cover it and I would owe $6000 as I completed the 9 weeks of rehab treatment.  I said no way could I pay that with Social Security income...which of course I earned through my working career, but it's really just barely meeting my needs. She kindly said I could work out payments. And then she said she'd call back, after checking with her supervisor about the appointment dates.

I didn't answer the first call-back, as I'd looked to see how much monthly payments I might be able to make over the next 5 to 10 years...if I'd live that long! And I'd just about figured it wasn't going to be worth it, since I already could look on line and learn a lot of things; vegetarian meals I'm already working on; yogic stretches I may be in a chair-class outdoors again soon; meditation I know how to do if I'd just set it as a priority; a support system is available through my friends at church if I just ask them; easy exercises like walking daily...so I had talked myself out of being in this intensive program. The only thing I don't know how to do is get my heart back to somewhere close to normal again, if that's at all possible. They are the experts on that.

Then I really needed to go to water. I don't know about you, but for me it is calming. It reminds me of my impermanence, as well as the root of life. Yes, it's kind of my church.

So I drove to Flat Creek, and walked just across the bridge from the parking lot. I was thrilled to see rhododendron flowers in bloom. And though it was raining lightly, I stood next to the creek and stared at the rain hitting the surface, and the leaves and flower petals floating gently downstream.

I looked beneath the moving water to the tiny rocks and pebbles and sand that just stay there as the water passes by. Was I like the leaves and petals floating along on the surface, or the stones on the bottom? I don't really know. But thinking like this I felt so grateful to be alive to experience this moment. I took a few photos with my phone.

Then the phone rang, and it was another person from the administration group, and he told me they were working to get the appointment dates straightened out. I repeated I knew and had seen no-one named Brian. I had to ask about the insurance coverage again...I wonder when he would have gotten around to it.

"Oh," he said, "you have a different plan than we thought and it covers 100% of the cost." I expressed my gratitude, but didn't say a thing about the last hour of stress they had caused me.


At no time did I feel angry. I thought that was a bit amazing. I'd been sure all along that there was a mix-up...maybe a different Barbara Rogers...maybe the girl who made my appointment put it down wrong. I am trying so hard to tap into what my heart has to tell me, but it was still silent. At least until I felt the gratitude welling up in me as I stood by the creek in the rain. It was good to be alive.

I admit I was smiling broadly as I drove home.




Today's quote:
It's like, at the end, there's this surprise quiz: Am I proud of me? I gave my life to become the person I am right now. Was it worth what I paid?
-Richard Bach, writer (b. 23 Jun 1936)