This is renee's message posted with her OK:
Hey Joan. Are you doing okay out there- got shots, no covid, safe?
My extended family fared well and now are dealing with anxieties a year of isolation, sometimes alone. Not me. This nursing rehab became a dirty little statistic; 10 patients died that I know of and 34 recovered- nearly all from my unit. Half the staff were very sloppy about wearing pandemic gear. "Oh, it's so hot... whine (slap)" Administration stopped telling us about # staff infections. Those who brought it in to patients were idiots. Ultimately many staff did not get vaccines. More idiots.
Jan 6 got the first vaccine... Three weeks later got a second shot and two hours later I tested positive and was moved into quarantine for a ridiculously teeny case of the plague. My roommates were not as lucky as I.
Late April my [dear friend] died suddenly. We talked nearly every day if we did not see each other- pretty good for a couple of 23 years who remained close but not in the same household for the next twenty. He was my best friend and my home. ...
I flipped out at the staff here soon after because they were resigned to keeping me indefinitely for wound care. Ten minutes/week without changing a treatment that was going nowhere, I fired them and was carted off to a good small hospital (shrink ward) with a serious Wound Center. After a night with a babysitter and paper bags for garbage cans, an assortment of hospital people came through including a shrink. She later came to say I didn't belong in the behavioral unit, my rehab facility did not screen me, the hospital was not about to send me back and the docs didn't want to give me a med bed. YAY. My shrink room was a single with plastic utensils and no phones because phones call 911 and can be used as projectiles. No shoes with shoelaces.
I stayed in bed having down time. This Wound Care Center took MRIs, xrays, CT scan of the 6cm wound and discovered osteomyelitis at the base of this pressure wound- no wonder I hadn't healed.
Now I have a pic line with antibiotics, a weekly visit at hospital wound care and when the infection goes away, I am heading to a non-profit nursing rehab with hospital-based wound care center nearby.
My apartment lease was ended and I anticipate a Medicaid bank cleanout when the the disaster is called off. My van backup housing- nay!
Thanksgiving was minimalist. "Thank you for the good stuff, now back off and cut me a break." Well, that didn't happen. I don't believe things necessarily happen for any reason other than because they can. We make choices and it's our job to be alive. In my father's belongings is a letter written by George Bernard Shaw to one of my dad's patients who was writing a book he hoped to publish. GBS loved to write long letters to anyone who approached him. The Shaw library in Dublin had a fire several years ago that destroyed some of the collection. The PLAN is to investigate the exchange between the two men and see if Dublin would like the letter. What a great mission and an excuse to see Dublin, drink stout, eat mussels and hear music.
If I can't do that there is B. Rescue a senior cat who has been in a shelter too long. Physical limitations make both good plans.
I hope everyone is intact. This place is a head spinner. Be well and please send my greetings. Here's a picture of bad institutional food.
My extended family fared well and now are dealing with anxieties a year of isolation, sometimes alone. Not me. This nursing rehab became a dirty little statistic; 10 patients died that I know of and 34 recovered- nearly all from my unit. Half the staff were very sloppy about wearing pandemic gear. "Oh, it's so hot... whine (slap)" Administration stopped telling us about # staff infections. Those who brought it in to patients were idiots. Ultimately many staff did not get vaccines. More idiots.
Jan 6 got the first vaccine... Three weeks later got a second shot and two hours later I tested positive and was moved into quarantine for a ridiculously teeny case of the plague. My roommates were not as lucky as I.
Late April my [dear friend] died suddenly. We talked nearly every day if we did not see each other- pretty good for a couple of 23 years who remained close but not in the same household for the next twenty. He was my best friend and my home. ...
I flipped out at the staff here soon after because they were resigned to keeping me indefinitely for wound care. Ten minutes/week without changing a treatment that was going nowhere, I fired them and was carted off to a good small hospital (shrink ward) with a serious Wound Center. After a night with a babysitter and paper bags for garbage cans, an assortment of hospital people came through including a shrink. She later came to say I didn't belong in the behavioral unit, my rehab facility did not screen me, the hospital was not about to send me back and the docs didn't want to give me a med bed. YAY. My shrink room was a single with plastic utensils and no phones because phones call 911 and can be used as projectiles. No shoes with shoelaces.
I stayed in bed having down time. This Wound Care Center took MRIs, xrays, CT scan of the 6cm wound and discovered osteomyelitis at the base of this pressure wound- no wonder I hadn't healed.
Now I have a pic line with antibiotics, a weekly visit at hospital wound care and when the infection goes away, I am heading to a non-profit nursing rehab with hospital-based wound care center nearby.
My apartment lease was ended and I anticipate a Medicaid bank cleanout when the the disaster is called off. My van backup housing- nay!
Thanksgiving was minimalist. "Thank you for the good stuff, now back off and cut me a break." Well, that didn't happen. I don't believe things necessarily happen for any reason other than because they can. We make choices and it's our job to be alive. In my father's belongings is a letter written by George Bernard Shaw to one of my dad's patients who was writing a book he hoped to publish. GBS loved to write long letters to anyone who approached him. The Shaw library in Dublin had a fire several years ago that destroyed some of the collection. The PLAN is to investigate the exchange between the two men and see if Dublin would like the letter. What a great mission and an excuse to see Dublin, drink stout, eat mussels and hear music.
If I can't do that there is B. Rescue a senior cat who has been in a shelter too long. Physical limitations make both good plans.
I hope everyone is intact. This place is a head spinner. Be well and please send my greetings. Here's a picture of bad institutional food.
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