My End Game With Strive
Friday, December 16th, 2022 11:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
snoozefestaudioThis entry's coming late. Friday was a long day, at the end of a long week. I did call the head of nursing at Strive, early today, just after walking Yvette, and left a message with her, saying I had some concerns, after Thurdsay's visit with him, and please call me back.
Three hours went by, while I was still at home with no call back, and then at 2PM I entered Dad's room to find him once again, in the bed, in a gown and diaper, with new babyfood... and snoring.
His clothes from wednesday, blue button down shirt and jeans, were still sitting on his wheelchair, just as they had been yesterday, which told me that he'd not been dressed or in that wheelchair for two whole days now.
I'm not gonna go into a whole play by play, but come monday, I'm waging a scorched earth campaign against Strive.
I'm coming out of the gate blasting them for wasting two (or more) days with him, threatening to call the Ombudsman, and also report them to Humana for insurance fraud, because they've taken money to do nothing with him.
I'm gonna be demanding he go back on solid food, accusing them again of fraud and trying to weaken him.
I'm going full Karen on Monday, and I'm gonna keep that pressure up all week... just ramping it up... and up... and up... on the phone every morning, and in person every afternoon.
And I can get my five siblings to start calling and badgering them too, if by my Monday visit, he's still in a gown in bed at 2PM.
I've got the names and numbers of the heads of PT, Nursing, and Meds for Dad, so... we can all leave multiple voice messages, thrice a day, to all of them... so that everybody's on goddam notice, that Dad has six kids who will collectively bring Strive down!
--<>--
When the timer is ticking like this... full Karen is the only way to go.
I've turned over all the angles with my siblings and MY conclusion is that... he's just gotta come home next Saturday no matter what shape he's in.
A nursing home makes no sense, given that he's fully lucid, and he's shown that he's capable of standing and walking with enough pain killers. There's no need to send him into Hell's waiting room.
But moving him to a better rehab facility also makes no goddam sense, now that he's been away from home for two fucking weeks.
If he's home, and he's on enough painkillers... between me, the home care tharapists, and his hardwired routines in this house for 88 years... we can get the motherfucker up and around well enough!
So, the game this week, is just to create as much drama as possible, to get them to do as much of the hard work as we can... that they've been blowing off the past two days, and will likely blow off this weekend.
I'm gonna be screaming bloody murder every day, that I do not find Dad dressed... walking... and eating solid food!
--<>--
Come hell or high water, we should be able to get him puttering around the house semi-normally by New Year's Day... and the home care's gonna stick around until at least the start of February.
In that January window, with him back in his sound mind, with the help of my siblings, we're gonna launch a legal blitz, to take care of all the issues surrounding the passage of the house from him to me upon his death, so that it's instantaneous, and air tight!
And after that...
We just try our damndest to keep him out of another rehab center, or nursing home ever again!
Like I said in the last entry, painkillers are now his friend! He's 88, and with a broken hip, has an excuse to stay on them the rest of his life... especially if they help him get around.
At his age, anything and everything that increses his chances of dying at home... i.e. painkillers, beer, cigarettes, cookies, cake, anything doctors don't want him to eat, or take or do... is what's on the table!
If it's fun, and it puts him at risk of dying in his sleep... that's what we're doing!
------------{=0=}------------
Here's my Friday progress on the Seven of Hearts...
Close to done, but it's probably gonna carry over into next week... with all the work on the flowers.
And I still probably need to cram in a few more flowers... and like a bow of the string over the top of the knob?
No way this is done by Sunday.
°¦}
https://soundcloud.com/snoozefestaudio
Three hours went by, while I was still at home with no call back, and then at 2PM I entered Dad's room to find him once again, in the bed, in a gown and diaper, with new babyfood... and snoring.
His clothes from wednesday, blue button down shirt and jeans, were still sitting on his wheelchair, just as they had been yesterday, which told me that he'd not been dressed or in that wheelchair for two whole days now.
I'm not gonna go into a whole play by play, but come monday, I'm waging a scorched earth campaign against Strive.
I'm coming out of the gate blasting them for wasting two (or more) days with him, threatening to call the Ombudsman, and also report them to Humana for insurance fraud, because they've taken money to do nothing with him.
I'm gonna be demanding he go back on solid food, accusing them again of fraud and trying to weaken him.
I'm going full Karen on Monday, and I'm gonna keep that pressure up all week... just ramping it up... and up... and up... on the phone every morning, and in person every afternoon.
And I can get my five siblings to start calling and badgering them too, if by my Monday visit, he's still in a gown in bed at 2PM.
I've got the names and numbers of the heads of PT, Nursing, and Meds for Dad, so... we can all leave multiple voice messages, thrice a day, to all of them... so that everybody's on goddam notice, that Dad has six kids who will collectively bring Strive down!
When the timer is ticking like this... full Karen is the only way to go.
I've turned over all the angles with my siblings and MY conclusion is that... he's just gotta come home next Saturday no matter what shape he's in.
A nursing home makes no sense, given that he's fully lucid, and he's shown that he's capable of standing and walking with enough pain killers. There's no need to send him into Hell's waiting room.
But moving him to a better rehab facility also makes no goddam sense, now that he's been away from home for two fucking weeks.
If he's home, and he's on enough painkillers... between me, the home care tharapists, and his hardwired routines in this house for 88 years... we can get the motherfucker up and around well enough!
So, the game this week, is just to create as much drama as possible, to get them to do as much of the hard work as we can... that they've been blowing off the past two days, and will likely blow off this weekend.
I'm gonna be screaming bloody murder every day, that I do not find Dad dressed... walking... and eating solid food!
Come hell or high water, we should be able to get him puttering around the house semi-normally by New Year's Day... and the home care's gonna stick around until at least the start of February.
In that January window, with him back in his sound mind, with the help of my siblings, we're gonna launch a legal blitz, to take care of all the issues surrounding the passage of the house from him to me upon his death, so that it's instantaneous, and air tight!
And after that...
We just try our damndest to keep him out of another rehab center, or nursing home ever again!
Like I said in the last entry, painkillers are now his friend! He's 88, and with a broken hip, has an excuse to stay on them the rest of his life... especially if they help him get around.
At his age, anything and everything that increses his chances of dying at home... i.e. painkillers, beer, cigarettes, cookies, cake, anything doctors don't want him to eat, or take or do... is what's on the table!
If it's fun, and it puts him at risk of dying in his sleep... that's what we're doing!
Here's my Friday progress on the Seven of Hearts...
Close to done, but it's probably gonna carry over into next week... with all the work on the flowers.
And I still probably need to cram in a few more flowers... and like a bow of the string over the top of the knob?
No way this is done by Sunday.
°¦}
