Friday, October 24, 2008
Are We Having Fun Yet?
8:30 a.m. Ambulance company calls to ask about Dad's insurance. Medicare doesn't apply; therefore, the bill will be $900+.
8:45 a.m. Hospital social worker calls. Dad's being sent to a nursing home for rehab today. Here's a list of covered nursing homes: which do I want? I have to decide now. Flustered and upset, I pick the only one I've heard of. The good news is that the nursing home will handle transport, also covered.
9:00 a.m. I pick up Fran to take her to her doctor's appointment, and drop off Gary so he can wait for a package Dad's expecting.
9:30 a.m. Fran and I manage to find the doctor's office, located in a bewildering, miles-long maze of industrial park.
9:35 a.m. We discover that Fran does not now have, and has never had, a Medicaid card. (She does have a Medicare card.) We also discover that she never got the packet of mandatory new-patient paperwork.
9:45 a.m. I finish filling out the paperwork for Fran, asking questions very loudly so she can hear me -- "DO YOU HAVE ANY DIGESTIVE PROBLEMS?" -- as everyone in the waiting room pretends to ignore us. So much for HIPAA.
9:50 a.m. I start knitting to relax.
10:20 a.m. Fran's finally called into the doctor's office.
10:45 a.m. My cell rings. It's the social worker again. Dad's wound is still oozing, so at noon he'll have the pacemaker rechecked, and possibly replaced. His transfer to the nursing home is now scheduled for Sunday, but the original nursing home doesn't transport patients on weekends, so here's the name of another one that does that's supposed to be good. Is that okay with me? "Sure," I say weakly, just hoping Dad will be ready to go anywhere on Sunday.
11:35 a.m. I'm still waiting for Fran to finish her appointment, and I have meetings starting in two hours, so I don't think I'll be able to get to the hospital until much later this afternoon. (I can probably get out of my later meeting, but not the earlier one.)
To be continued. . . .