I Don't Know A Thing About It
And There's A Kitty

Pacemaker

I'm exhausted. I've done nothing but sit in hospital rooms for the last two days, but I'm exhausted.

Mom had a pacemaker implanted in her chest this morning. She came through the minimally invasive surgery beautifully, according to the doctors. I'm not so sure, but I'll take their word for it. I must admit that she seemed a bit more grounded in this reality this morning, even though she couldn't remember my name and even though she claimed she had three fights in the night with various hospital staff.

Sometimes I think she's playing with us.

No, I really don't.

Anyway.

We did panic when it seemed that she would not be approved for residential rehabilitation care -- in other words, she would not be able to spend the next couple of weeks in a nursing home and have Medicare pay for it.

I mean, COME. ON. She's 96. She can't fix her own meals, bathe herself, or manage her meds. She can barely walk with a walker. And now she's had surgery and has to keep her left arm in a sling for two weeks! Tell me how anyone can walk with a walker or cane with an arm in a sling, much less take care of the rest of her activities of daily living.

Please? Anyone?

I thought not. Thank you.

At any rate, sanity prevailed. We'll have short period when we'll have to determine what comes next. Does she come home? Do we hire home health care? Do we sell her house and move her into assisted living? And the biggest question of all -- how do we pay for it? Liquidate her CD, max out her credit card, sell her home, somehow get her qualified for Medicaid...

But you know what? She's my mom. I love her. I thought I was going to lose her on Monday, and I didn't. And I'm glad, and we'll figure it out.

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