April 25 – “Crisis Care”

We received word from hospice yesterday that Mom has reached the stage where she qualifies for their “Crisis Care” or “Continuous Care” program.  That means they will  provide a nurse who will stay here at the house 24 hours a day to administer medications and help with Mom’s care as needed.  They appear to work 12 hour shifts from 8 to 8.  At least that’s how they did it yesterday.  Both have been quite helpful, and hearing their stories about how they came to become hospice nurses in particular has been fascinating.  They have both been calm and immeasurably respectful every time they have approached Mom to give her meds or to reposition her.  I have to say it has been odd to have a stranger in the house, but Chris has been amazing in her ability to connect with them and make them feel at home.  You just can’t keep a gift of hospitality like she has from leaking out all over the place, even when so much else is going on. 

Jay and Fran and Becky came by and had lunch with us.  Stan and Sue and Amy came by later after Amy’s flight arrived from Arizona.  We talked a little about how best to notify them when Mom does die.  Melissa from Seaside brought over some fried chicken for supper.  We haven’t had fried chicken in a long time.  I spent a good part of the afternoon mowing and edging the grass.  Chris did a lot of inside cleaning.  I guess the therapeutic part of exercise is kicking in.  I just wanted to get tired enough that I wouldn’t wake up more than two or three times during the night.  I was … successful.  And as a result today I’m kind of sore.  Worth it, though.  Can’t beat that physically exhausted feeling when you have actually accomplished something. 

Speaking of exhausted, I have just about exhausted my supply of Celebrex for my rheumatoid arthritis.  I called the doc’s office Tuesday and again yesterday.  Took three tries, but they finally returned my call.  The deal is, I am on one of those programs through the manufacturer where they provide my medications free.  My insurance refuses to cover Celebrex.  To qualify for the program I have to send them an application form and a copy of my income tax statement.  The problem is, they don’t want to receive the application packet from me.  I have to send it to my doctor and they have to file it for me.  Fine.  I did that back on the 11^th of April.  The calls this week were to follow up and see where we stand in the process, since I only have two days of meds remaining.  Well, then.  After being on hold for fifteen minutes, it appears no one has seen the fax I sent back on the 11^th.  Which means the form has never even been sent to the company.  Which means by about Sunday evening I will be out of Celebrex.  To make a long phone call story short, after intervention by the office manager who promised to “look into the situation,” apologies all around, and me re-faxing the information, the office nurse was filling it out and sending it on before we even hung up the phone.  They will try to get permission from the doctor to send me some Celebrex that should arrive by Saturday.  Whew.  Deep breath.  You know, one of the underlying causes and/or activators of rheumatoid arthritis pain is … stress.  Gee.  Do you think I might have a flare up this week?  Nah.  Surely not.

1 Peter 5:7 says, “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.”

Father, I’m here doing some casting.  Not much live bait available around Galveston lately, so I’ll just hook up some these worries and frustrations and weariness and give them a good toss in your direction.  Amen.