Two In The Clip and One In The Chamber

OK, so Friday night my father in law was headed over to go out with us to dinner. He then called and said that wasn’t happening. He was having chest pains and shortness of breath. He needed to go to the ER.

We flipped a coin and headed to Forbes Regional. You may remember, my wife had a bad experience at Westmoreland Regional when she was dealing with pneumonia. Then again, I had a bad experience with West Penn Allegheny Health System when they neglected to honor a wellness visit for my wife and instead charged us for a service which led to a huge debacle over charges, collections, and general failure of the healthcare billing system. However, seeing as how Excela basically wasted precious time when my mother in law was dying from a brain hemorrhage, I was more comfortable going to Forbes.

Now, for four months the man has been complaining of his leg hurting. He has an artificial hip and is 73 years old. However, no one could figure out what the hell was going on. He has arthritis in his back which was causing issues with his leg. He wears a foot brace because of a drop foot and that was broken for the last four years. As soon as he replaced it and got new shoes, it all went to shit for him. So, he sat and sat. He wasn’t playing golf or doing anything else. In the end, the diagnosis was that he had three blood clots. One in his leg and one in each lung. As I called it, “Two in the chamber and one in the clip.”

After he finally got a room, we noticed two things. One, his roommate sounded like he needed a coughalator and two, the bed had blood on it. So, needless to say, we got him moved. He was fine down at the other end of the hall, but the lady in the room next to him has the same issue as the other guy. So, it’s never quiet. He’s been laid up now, going on day five. He’s ready to come home. Hopefully, he’ll be home today.

However, last night as we were leaving, we got the most unusual request. An elderly lady was sitting at the entrance to the hospital. She was sitting in a wheelchair and asked if we could take her home.

I was flabbergasted.

I didn’t know what to say.

I didn’t have a chance. My kid got in the automatic revolving door and I had to follow her.

Apparently, she had been discharged and didn’t have a ride. She had been waiting for a cab but it hadn’t come after two hours. We were just about to say, “Yes”, when her ride showed up. A friend was coming to pick her up but fell asleep in the car out in the parking lot.

She was a trusting soul. We could have been psychos. Though, I could imagine her getting in the car and saying, “Thanks for giving me a ride.  Do you mind if I stop at the bank and get some money to give you for your trouble?” Then she pulls out a gun and ski mask.

“Granny’s packing! She’s got one in the chamber and two in the clip.”

Convenience Store Hotdog Healthcare Part One

Food. Food is good. I like food. If you look at me, you can probably tell that right away.

I also like being in pretty decent health. The two aren’t mutually exclusive, as one might think. I’ll admit, I have a vice and there are detriments to my health from enjoying that vice. However, my health is usually pretty good to the point that I am seeing a doctor maybe once a year.

Now, when I do need to see the doctor, I have my choice. I can either see my PCP or go to an urgent care facility. People will swear up one side and down the other that urgent care is like going to Dr. Nick in Springfield. I am here to tell you that it’s not a given that places like MedExpress will be a bad option when it comes to care. It’s simply an option. In terms of the quality of care, I will use food as an analogy. Politicians may want to call it broccoli, for whatever reason, but my analogy is more aligned with where you get the food.

Let’s say you want to get a hotdog. Hotdogs are good, but it’s best that you don’t know what’s exactly in them from an ingredients standpoint. Relating that to a medical situation, the hotdog is an illness or ailment where you don’t exactly know what’s wrong with you. It’s not like a cold where you know what’s wrong with you.  You need some diagnosis beyond what you can see or feel.

Just like getting a hotdog, you have a few options. You can go to a ball park and pay a lot for an authentic hotdog. We’ll call that a hospital hotdog. You can go to the grocery store and buy a pack of hotdogs for much cheaper and somewhat relative quality to the ballpark. We’ll call that a family doctor dog. Or, you can go down to the local convenience store / gas station and get a dog from the counter which is on those heat rollers. We’ll call that the urgent care dog. Price may vary.

You can go to a ballpark to get a hotdog, which is awesome, but you’ll spend a lot of money to get that kind of quality. You’ll also be there for awhile. There are a lot of other people that you have to sort of "queue up" with to get that hotdog. The game could go into extra innings or overtime, keeping you there longer but that hotdog is pretty darn good.

You can go to the grocery store and get a pack of hotdogs. You know the quality is probably pretty decent but the ambiance is lessened. You take the hotdogs home and finish them but they’re pretty much cooked already. You still want to follow the directions on the packaging. You may have to fight through the crowds on a Sunday during football season or right around a summer holiday, but you can expect to pay a small amount and go home with a pretty good dog.

Now, the convenience store dog has been in that hot box on a roller for who knows how long. It’s probably not exactly the best quality of hotdog and when you add cheese or chili you’ve probably brought the quality down considerably. That hotdog is unknown territory and you could find yourself worse off after you’ve eaten it. The price is based on convenience. The same amount for a pack of dogs at the grocery store gets you two, cooked dogs, at the convenience store but do you really trust them in messing around in your digestive system?

Now, if I was going to the convenience store to get a bottle of Coke out of the case or a bag of Doritos, no problem. As long as the dates are good, should be OK. Candy Bar? Sure. I’m pretty secure in the fact that the food I will consume will be OK. Yeah, I’m going to pay a bit more than at a grocery store, but I got right in, got my snack, and am on my way.

The same goes for what my wife experienced over the last week.

She noticed that she felt like she had a bladder infection. Normal symptoms were all there. Figured she could hold off to see her doctor after the weekend. By Sunday, she was in pretty bad shape. I came inside to find her sitting on the couch, wrapped in blankets and a hoodie, shivering. This was beyond just a simple infection.

I took her to MedExpress, which I trusted, and they confirmed she had an infection, but the fever, chills, and rigors were speaking more towards a blood infection. One of her friends went through this and ended up in the hospital in a coma with a brain infection that made her act belligerent and out of character. It all started with a kidney infection. So, they did a urine test and even listened to her lungs. They came back and said she needed to go to the ER, right away and get IV antibiotics. That’s a 2-3 day treatment and with a five year old involved, it messes up our scheduling. I have to take off from work, she has to take off from work, we need to figure out what to do with the kid who goes to Kindercare two days during the week. Pretty messed up situation.

So, she opted to go against medical advice, they gave her an antibiotic shot in the ass and a script for Cipro and we were on our way. Monday evening, she wasn’t any better. Still had a fever, chills, and rigors. We took my kid to my Father-in-law’s and went to the ER at Westmoreland Hospital.

Now, first off, the parking at their ER is ridiculous. It’s an Emergency Room and all of the parking spaces are either, 15 minute parking, handicapped parking, or Ambulance parking. You sit for 20 minutes alone, waiting for them to even get to you. So, I parked across the street after dropping her off at the door. Luckily, she was able to do fine on her own from there. They got her registered and triaged her. By 9:15PM, they had an IV run with another antibiotic, blood draws, and a sample of urine.

By 10PM we made a decision that if they planned to keep her all night, I would work from home on Tuesday, then take the kid to my parents for the night, after being at Kindercare. I would go to work on Wed and then pick up her up and do the same for Thursday and Friday. If they planned to release her, I would simply take the kid and go pick up my wife.

The doctor came in and examined my wife. Did all the same steps MedExpress did but after examining her, sent her for a chest X-Ray. This was something MedExpress didn’t do. I went and picked up the kiddo from her Pappy’s, and we kind of had a stay up and play session while we waited for the news.

So, what do you think the prognosis was? I’ll give you a hint. The X-Ray is the key.



Stay Tuned.

Sick Of It

You know your kid is sick when on Easter morning the little tyke doesn’t dive head first into her basket of candy like Ewan McGregor into a toilet in Trainspotting. I will let that image sit with you for one second… no more, or might not come back from that place.

Turns out, my kid was working on a fever. She had already been put on antibiotics for an ear infection earlier in the week, so the doctors thought to do nothing else as this was more viral in nature. We just had to keep her fever down and keep her hydrated. It wasn’t easy. She was hovering around 102-104 and my wife kept wanting to pull the trigger and take her to the hospital.

I was not as ready to jump on that path, yet. We’ve been down that path before. The kid gets traumatized, an IV drip with saline, Motrin, and a $100 bill for the ER visit plus the emotional trauma. Been there, done that.

I suggested we keep trying to bring it down with alternating children’s strength Motrin and Tylenol, wet facial cloths for her forehead and coaxing her to drink more fluids. And guess what? It worked. We brought her fever down and by bed time the little hustler was besting me two out of three games in Candyland.

By the beginning of the next week, my wife began experiencing a fever. By Tuesday, I had it. Finally, on Thursday, her father had it. Each of us with varying symptoms.

By Friday, I was spent. So, I worked from home and then had to take care of my wife. I took her go for a chest x-ray which revealed she had pneumonia in her right lung. She also had pink eye. They put her on a Z-pack, drops for eye, and neb treatments.

I went on Saturday with my father-in-law to MedExpress which revealed I had bronchitis, pharyngitis, and an ear infection. A strep test came back negative, but I was already cheating by taking two leftover Augmentin the day before. I was not originally going to go but considering I was coughing up bloody phlegm, it was probably a good thing. My father-in-law was not so lucky. He also had pneumonia in his right lung but his physician decided on a swifter course of treatment and gave him an antibiotic shoot in the ass. I got lucky. I managed to get through most of the week with a fever of around 101.

Now, the kiddo is coughing again and complaining her ear hurts.

Honestly, wtf? Was this mild Winter to blame for this rash of bad medical juju? Should we hope for three feet of snow, sub arctic temperatures, and hope for the best?

Ridiculous.

God called one more amazing woman to live w/him

I didn't write this and the words are better for it.   Thank you Brenna.

1944 - 2010

Today, April 11th, 2010, God called one more person to leave the earth and go to a better place. To most people she was just another person, but to me and a lot more people she was the best lady in the world. To me, she was one of my two most amazing grandmas. I'll always love her, and nothing could ever change that. She was awesome. She always took me to see movies when I was little, she was the one to always hold family dinners for holidays, or to just visit.

What's funny is that just two weeks ago, she was fine. She was happy. Then yesterday, she went into a coma from her brain bleeding. The only thing keeping her alive was a breathing machine. The doctors said anything could've caused it, but most of my family were pretty sure it was a brain tumor. Just a few months ago, she got better from one. Now look what happened. My mom and aunt told me I could talk to her, even though she couldn't respond. They said she could hear me. But I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to repeat what everyone else kept telling her over and over again. And I also felt bad knowing she couldn't reply. I knew she wouldve felt bad about that too. So I just prayed.

It was the second time I've ever seen my stepdad cry.. Its actually kind of funny but I love him too. Everyone was crying except the people who never even see my grandma much. They just looked at her. But I could tell they were sad. How couldn't they be?

The only thing that is making me not cry right this minute is how good my 2 year old cousin Bailey is handeling it all. She understands she'll never see Grammy again, but she seemed happy. She KNEW she went to a better place. She even said so.

I only wrote this so I would remember her forever. I don't know how many people will even care enough to read this, but those of you who did, thank you. Me and my family could use a lot of prayers. Thank you.

r.i.p. Grandma
we will always remember you.

$9.99 For the Toilet Parts $150 For the ER Stay and X-Ray

My issues with home ownership are strewn all over the blog. Just look up the label and you’ll see them. Recently, we had issues with a toilet in our upstairs bathroom. I am by no means a plumber and have very little desire to be on my hands and knees in a cramped space with no room to work. However, the water just stopped flowing one night. The tank will eventually fill up over time but you have to schedule time in the bathroom over the period of the day or grab a jug and fill up the tank. Needless to say, I needed to get to work on it.

We thought the problem was originally because of my daughter, who is becoming more and more obstinate and independent. She is in potty training boot camp which usually consists of her wanting to use the bathroom usually before bath and bedtime. It used to be that she would walk into the bathroom, drop her drawers, and rip off her diaper like it was a parachute ripcord. I imagine the puffed out diaper deploying like the chute of a Looney Tunes character after the hapless cartoon animal hits the ground. Once de-pants she would saddle up to her potty, finish up, ask for paper and then wait for my wife or I to empty the contents into the toilet and then she would flush and close the lid. That was the case for about the first week. Come week two, we are using the potty as a step stool to sit on the insert that goes on the toilet seat. She is now in the minor leagues. Same protocol as before for cleaning up. Now, she wants to do it all by herself, without the insert, and content to just sit over the edge of the seat, teetering like Humpty Dumpty. If you try to get the insert or move the stool, she gets very upset to the point that she will toss the insert aside and move the stool back to its spot across the floor and move it back, all by herself. It’s safe to say the terrible twos are in full swing.

So, this week, after much debate and raised voices, she sat there and waved off my wife from trying to steady her and kerplunk she went into the bowl. That’s not why the toilet won’t flush but it occurred the same night. Turns out the fill valve in the tank is probably shot and needs replaced. Off to the evil blue store I go. I have no problem in admitting that I hate that big blue beacon of corporate retail. I lost some very good stores in my area thanks to it. It’s also creeping into my neighborhood in its attempt at global domination which will most likely increase traffic in an already burgeoning area, which is already congested and beyond road load capacity. Still, I was in need of parts and we were already near one.

My daughter, being little miss independent, doesn’t want to ride in a cart or hold your hand. We insist on it because, quite frankly, if my kid was going to get snatched up by some sicko, it would be here. However, she loves to go shopping and gets very haughty if we don’t all go in, if only for one item. My wife, on the other hand, can’t help but look at everything in the store, even though I have a specific item in mind and only plan on spending five minutes in the store. Can you tell I really did not want to be here? But, it was early in the evening and the thought of finishing up dinner, nightly chores and bath time before 9 PM was enticing enough to me to make the trip out. That’s usually when you find out that your night is going to turn out completely different.

Everything was pretty good up until checkout time. Yes, there was the embarrassing moment when walking through the bra isle, my daughter looked up and yelled “Booby Traps” loud enough that the couple in front of me turned to look and laugh at the comment and my blushing face. Still, for the most part she was being a pretty good girl. After switching guard detail a few times, it was my turn to hold her hand and my wife’s turn to push the cart. I informed my daughter that she had to hold my hand and could not let go. “Someone could take you,” I said. In my mind I remembered why they called the code for missing child Code*Adam. I remember growing up and watching the movie Adam on television. Mostly, I wanted to see it because at the age of seven, I watched Hill Street Blues and knew that Captain Furillo was playing John Walsh. Not knowing that this movie was based on a real story and after the fact, I kept waiting for them to find little Adam Walsh alive. It was the first time in my life I realized that kids were not indestructible and could be hurt and even killed. I suddenly realized that I am mortal and have an expiration date. As my thoughts from little Adam Walsh turned back to the little girl holding my hand, it happened.

It was all so fast. Her independence got the better of her and she tried to pull her hand away from mine. When she couldn’t succeed and started to spin around I knew that I was going to have to pick her up and carry her, cries for freedom be damned. Before I could bend down to pick her up she decided that her best course of action was to drop to the floor like a sack of potatoes. That’s when I felt the pop. She started to cry. Usually, when she doesn’t get her way, she cries. But it’s the cry without tears, the one for effect. The drama queen takes center stage and wants her way, announcing, “I do it myself.” But that didn’t happen here. After the pop, she immediately cried with real tears and grabbed her arm. At first, I didn’t think anything of it and picked her up. But the fact that she didn’t calm down made me wonder. Was she really putting on the act or was there something else. I set her down and she continued to cry, clutching her arm. Soon, my heart sank. She was wearing a coat and sweatshirt so I couldn’t a good look at her arm. It didn’t feel like anything was wrong and I kept squeezing little bits up and down to see if I could notice anything. Then I thought I was making it worse.

I tried to soothe her and get her arm out of the coat and sweatshirt to make sure my fears were unfounded. There was no sign of anything wrong, yet she continued to cry and clutch at it. That’s when it became worse. I asked her what happened and she looked at me, with those big puffy, teary and reddened eyes and said, “Daddy hurt me.” I wanted to throw up right there. I’m standing in the middle of the store with my kid, clutching her arm, declaring that her father hurt her. Immediately I felt my ears burn and the daggers of a hundred eyes piercing my body. I was that guy. I was the guy that beat his kid. It didn’t matter that I didn’t do it. I was merely holding her hand and she dropped to the ground. Perception is reality and in this day and age, when it comes to kids I am guilty until proven culpable.

Think of this. Twenty years ago, if you were to get on a plane and sit next to a passenger wearing a head wrap, what would you think? Nothing. But sit next to that same person after 9/11 and what do you think? I don’t care if you are the most objective and unbiased person in the world. You will ultimately profile that person as a terrorist, if only for a second. This is what we have become as a society and sometimes we need to be that observant. Other times we jump to conclusions and assume the worst of a person. Remember Henry Louis Gates, Jr.? Exactly. Here I was, a grown man, standing in the store holding his crying kid who just declared that her Daddy hurt her. I felt guilty. I informed my wife and headed to the car as she finished up in the checkout. She was livid. The first thing she said was, “What did you do?” I felt ashamed, sickened, and responsible. I explained what happened as we drove to the ER.

We checked her in and those stares, albeit in my mind, persisted. We headed back to a cubicle and the doctor came in to look at her. My daughter, crying more than I had ever heard her cry was being poked and prodded. My looked at me and this same grown man was reduced to a quivering ball of goo. My eyes, beet red and swelled up, dripped profusely. The sight of my little girl being in pain is hard enough, but to think that I broke her arm made me lose it, completely. I was waiting for a police officer to come in and separate me from my family. I was thinking that I was going to be in so much trouble. I felt guilty.

I stayed towards the back of the cubicle, trying to compose myself. I realize that my daughter’s fears and pain were exacerbated by my appearance and I needed to pull myself together. My wife was in charge of her at this point. I could hear the various voices through the ones in my head. “All better now. It’s fixed.” If it was, why is she still crying and not using her arm. The staff asked me repeatedly what had happened and in every instance I was told the following things, “It’s common”, “It’s nothing serious” and “It’s easy to fix” Ok, then why is she still crying. Why am I?

Soon, the crying stopped and she was clutching a Popsicle, the purple juice flowing down her tear streaked chin and onto her shirt. She still didn’t move her arm and touching it set her off on another cry. The doctor brought stickers and asked her to grab them. She was holding the Popsicle with her good arm and wouldn’t relinquish it. “It’s like a big ice cube,” she said. When asked to use her other arm to take the stickers she said, “No, thank you.” Another member of the staff asked her how old she was, hoping she would use her affected arm to indicate the peace sign that also meant two. “I’m a big girl,” she said. My kid is way too smart for you people, I thought. My wife even stuck the stickers on her unaffected shoulder, thinking she would use the other hand to grab them. She loves stickers, but would not budge, instead using her same hand to reach up onto that shoulder to grab the sticker, letting her hurt one dangle. In a last ditch effort we put the stickers on the bed and expected her to use both hands to peel them off the sheet. Nope, after she did not get any help from us, she used her teeth to hold the sheet and peeled away.

The doctor said he heard the pop and said it should be OK. He said that she would forget that it was hurt and use it again, but after an hour of being touchy about it, he suggested an X-Ray. The X-Ray technician was a friendly face. She was the parents of two of my wife’s piano students and knew us enough to know that we would never do anything to hurt our kid. Finally, I could relax a little because she looked at me and knew how I felt and reassured me that I did nothing wrong. Coming from her, I believed it.

The pictures came back fine, but they wouldn’t release her until she used that arm, much to her resistance. The doctor took one last look, bending and turning the arm, causing my daughter to write in pain and tears. Then, almost instantly, she rolled over on the bed, pulling the hurt arm away from him and supported her weight on it. He looked at me, smiling in a sarcastic way, “It’s a miracle.” Usually, an attitude like that was uncalled for, but I knew he was referring to her being alright and only crying for effect. Once again, perception is reality. We were cleared to take her home.

The official word was a new one for my vocabulary. Radial head subluxation or nurse maid’s elbow. Basically, all those times your parents said they were going to pull your arm out of its socket for being bad was not just an urban legend. I still felt like such an asshat for letting it happen. By the time we got home, the little one was laughing and playing and using her arm like nothing happened. We got ready for bed and she sat on the edge of the toilet, teetering again, but letting me steady her. I told her I loved her and that I was sorry. She said, “It’s OK. Sometimes, I get a boo boo.” At last, my heart went back into my chest. I no longer felt like some monster. She wasn’t crying at me and saying I hurt her, anymore. I understand that I have a temper. I see it in my kid. On her good days, she is the best of what make up myself and my wife. On her bad days, she’s the worst of us. So, I see how I am when it comes to temper. My wife used to say I was the most patient person in the world. Parenthood wiped that out and it fluctuates. I need to learn to calm down and relax and this whole incident was proof. I am, what the name implies, Mongo. I have all the dexterity of an oven mitt and am clumsy to boot. I break shovels and rakes just but doing basic yard work. Ask my family, my brother had no good toys left because I broke them all.

So, to think that Mongo broke his kid’s arm, accidental or otherwise is a bit of a wakeup call. I need to relearn that bit of patience my wife used to think I had. Now, in this case, it was totally a fluke but my wife knows how I am. Even with all the medical professionals around telling us that this was a common thing and that I didn’t hurt her, she still had that look in her eye. “Mongo strikes again.” Of course, I didn’t help with my breakdown. But at least my kid is OK and she loves her Daddy again. After she said that , I told her, “That’s why you have to hold Mommy and Daddy’s hand and not let go. And even if you want to, you can’t just drop to the floor like that because you can get hurt.” She looked at me and said, “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” She then finished brushing her teeth and we were off to bed. Then I went back into the bathroom and used a gallon jug to flush the toilet. Perhaps tomorrow, I can get that fixed, without another trip to the hospital.

I told her, “That’s why you have to hold Mommy and Daddy’s hand and not let go. And even if you want to, you can’t just drop to the floor like that because you can get hurt.” She looked at me and said, “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” She then finished brushing her teeth and we were off to bed. Then I went back into the bathroom and used a gallon jug to flush the toilet. Perhaps tomorrow, I can get that fixed, without another trip to the hospital.

Healthcare Makes Me Sick

"After very careful consideration, sir, I've come to the conclusion that your new healthcare system sucks."

I’m not going to get into a debate over single payer insurances, government run healthcare or any of that. Quite frankly, I have a bigger problem with how the current system is managed and quite frankly, if competition is a good thing, I hope it inspires the players to step up their game and become better proponents to reform instead of being obstacles. Currently, the left hand doesn’t know what the right hand is doing and the right hand is currently underneath its own seated ass, becoming numb in order to perform The Stranger.

Back in May, my daughter caught the stomach flu. In February she had come down with it and passed it along to myself, my wife, and my wife’s parents. This time, none of us seemed to get it, which was good. However, to see this rambunctious child, who runs around constantly, lying on the floor and unresponsive to various stimuli gives a first time parent pause. We had taken her to the ER in February and they pretty much observed her and sent us home after a few hours. My insurance, at the time, had a $35 co-pay. No big deal. Fearing this was more severe a case, we made the decision to take her again and she was found to be severely dehydrated. We had tried giving her juice, Pedialyte and anything else to keep her fluids up but she refused.

We walked into the ER and she just sat there in my arms, something she hardly ever does, anymore. They took her to cubicle and pumped her with two bags of IV fluid. Her fever spiked at 103 and they administered medication to reduce it. Since she had been vomiting anything she ingested, they had to do it rectally. After a few hours of trying to bring down her fever, the ER docs made the decision to admit her. Now, this was the hospital that our daughter was delivered two years ago. Since then, the hospital was acquired by a bigger group and the Obstetric and Pediatric care was dissolved. This meant an ambulance ride to a nearby hospital. From there, she was released later in the evening.

Now, here’s the problem and let me preface this by stating that I have no issue with the care she received. I am grateful for it. She was a completely different kid when she got released as the pictures will attest to. That being said, what followed was a complete and utter breakdown of communication, administration, and severe frustration on the part of my wife and I concerning the billing of this stay.

Little One at the ER before being admitted.


Little One playing with balloons before being released.

As I said, before, my insurance in February had a $35 co-pay for ER visits. Our insurance was changed at the employer level and the new provider and coverage, which begun in April, had a $100 co-pay for ER visits. If you were admitted to the hospital, that co-pay was waived. We also had a $100 deductible per family member, which my employer opted to waive for the rest of this calendar year because of the transition. So, for those of you playing at home, with no prior medical billing experience, what was my total bill for the ER and Hospital stay*?

a) $0
b) $100
c) $236
d) $136

For those of you who chose a), you made the same mistake as me. I received two separate bills from this event. One was the co-pay for $100. The other was a bill from the ER doctor’s practice in the amount of $136. Now, before everyone flames me for being nitpicky over $236 remember, I had a $100 co-pay that was waived on admittance, and no fulfilled deductible for the remainder of 2009. I admit that if I was responsible for paying the full amount under any other circumstances, I would be glad to. My daughter’s well being is worth millions.

However, I felt that there was something rotten in the state of Pennsylvania, and I wanted it take care of one way or the other. Most adults will handle the situation in of two manners. They will call and track down the responsible parties, confirming or debunking their responsibility for paying the bill, or they will just let it sit and hope that it goes away. I prefer a more hybrid approach. I let the bills sit while I contact our internal support folks in these matters and ask them what the hell is up? Unfortunately, in this instance, no help was really available.

So, the $100 co-pay bill kind of sat in a pile, soon to be joined by a reminder and finally a letter from credit and collections in the matter. All the while, the issue was being investigate by internal associates who met with brick walls and unanswered emails. Then, the Explanation of Benefits came along and stated that the Insurance provider had fulfilled a portion of the services at the ER and that the doctor had the right to “balance bill” the member for the remainder, which was $136. If you’ve ever looked at EOBs it’s hard to understand sometimes but eventually once you sift through the medical mire of line items and coding you can find out the important stuff.

I took the reins in the matter and made several phone calls and left several messages. The billing parties were conveniently holding office hours while I and my wife worked which made it near impossible to get a hold of them in person. Finally, we called the insurance company to get some explanations.

In the matter of the $100, the insurer stated that my daughter was an outpatient observation case. I said, “Then why did they admit her?” The rep could not answer me. This was beginning to look like a case of clerical error made on the part of the hospital. After all, the patient advocate who helped in the transport of my daughter when she got admitted said that she was being admitted and that the co-pay was going to be waived. So, I started calling the hospital, the billing department and anyone else who could tell me what was going on with this thing.

Finally, I got an answer from someone totally unrelated to my daughter’s care. A doctor, who was listed as part of the practice that treated my daughter at the hospital, got on the phone after medical billing gave me her name and number. She did not remember treating my child nor did she understand how I got her information. She did, however, take the time to delve into the case and stated that my daughter was admitted as Observational as most pediatric Gastro patients are. So, I was pretty much screwed on that front. The insurance provider said that I would have to get the doctors to re-bill the visit as inpatient and this doctor was telling me that this wasn’t the protocol in my daughter’s case. So, why couldn’t anyone involved with the matter explain this to me? I would have hemmed and hawed and cursed insurance companies for a bit, but would have paid. I did pay it, though, once someone had finally explained it to me.

Now, the matter of the $136 came to my plate as it was billed in August, almost four months after the initial hospital visit. I explained to both the billing office and the insurer that we had a $100 deductible and that would negate the $36 left on the bill. Also, being that our deductible was fulfilled automatically by my employer, I should be free and clear, outright. Apparently, that wasn’t the case. It was also odd that there was no mention of amounts on my EOBs as there had been with the previous insurer. Each EOB used to come with a breakdown of your responsibility towards fulfilling deductibles, in-network and out of network amounts. The new carriers were lacking in this department. Regardless, at the bottom of the EOB for the $136, it stated that the carrier paid the maximum amount for “in-network” providers and that the provider that treated my daughter was “out of network.”

I read that statement a few more times. From what this stated, the hospital system that I visited was in my network, but the doctors working in the ER there were not. Now, how is that even a logical premise? According to what I’ve been told by people in the business, the new methodology in healthcare providers is to stop holding the hand of the member and explain to them that they need to be an informed consumer. That means that when you go to an ER and request treatment, you need to determine if the doctor assigned to your case is in your network. So, regardless of how severe the situation is, whether it be the stomach flu in a two year old or a severed limb packed in ice next to you, you need to ask for a list of participating providers before receiving care.

Another suggestion by insurance carriers today is for members to shop around for care. Ask if there are any specials or benefits to getting care there. Imagine that scenario, “Yeah, I need to have kidney transplant. What specials are you running today? Two for one? Great. Now, can I have the SSN attached to that kidney? I’d like to go online and request a donor history report.” I’m sorry, but if my daughter is listless and expelling fluid from either end of her being, I’m going to the ER and asking for care, not credentials or a menu.

So, I called the insurer and explained my disbelief over this flawed process. They offered no sympathy and continued to be the Teflon carrier pushing the matter back to everyone else but them. I called the ER and requested to speak with the doctor listed on the bill as the presiding physician. They said she was not on staff, there. I called the billing department at the hospital system and they did not even know who this practice was. Not to mention they said that this matter had taken place before the merger. I informed the person on the phone that was impossible; otherwise you would not have sent me into collections over a co-pay from that visit. You can’t have it both ways. They were completely clueless over the whole matter. They informed me to call the billing party. I had already left a message and received no response. Finally I started to formulate a theory as to what was going on here.

The ER that treated my daughter was still doing business as they had before the merger. The hospital continued to let them do so with only dotted line responsibility. This is why they had no clue as to who this physician or practice was that treated my daughter. This also gets them into a double dip area where they recognize the hospital as a part of their network but allow them to staff with people who could be considered out of network. It would make more sense for a hospital system to operate as a whole entity in terms of membership to providers. It makes for a one process system instead of bolt on processes that can bastardize the system as a whole. This was neither here nor there. I wasn’t in the business of fixing the system, just being screwed by them

After getting the run around for three days over this, I finally got a response from my internal contacts, two months after initiating the request. I was told to contact a rep from another company and explain the situation. Now, this was the original co-pay problem, not the bill. She explained what I had already found out, that the visit was, is and always shall be an observational event. However, when I mentioned the other matter with the “out of network” providers wandering the ER and treating patients, she became intrigued. She said she would put a hold on the account and investigate further.

Within an hour, the entire matter of the $136 was cleared up. The insurance carrier had an error that systematically declared the provider as an “Out of Network” group. Because of that, I got billed. The problem was fixed and I was going to receive an updated invoice for $0. She also initiated a fact finding mission to how this happened to make sure it didn’t occur in the future. Unfortunately, I see two problems with this.

1. Will they go back and investigate other claims made by this provider that were not fully reimbursed because of the glitch? Obviously, they either didn’t catch it before my case or had done so and took to remitting the balance of claims to the provider only if someone cried foul in each case.
   
2. How many other providers experienced this glitch in their system? How many other parents or patients experienced this same ridiculous event in other hospitals across the state, or even country? The level of accountability and transparency over ownership in such matters is shoddy.

I called the insurer on three separate occasions, each time being pushed back to someone else. Another call to another entity. That person pushed me back to the carrier or to another party. If they would have just confirmed with the provider whether or not they were a member of the network, this could have been resolved. Of course, if I would have called as soon as I got the bill, it might have been. But even so, the event happened at the beginning of May. The rebill to me occurred less than two weeks ago.

This is my issue with the system as it is. Yes, premiums are skyrocketing. Yes, the level of involvement by insurance companies in your care is increasing. Yes, the economy sucks, people are unemployed, and have no insurance. But inside that system that is flawed resides a bigger problem. Not the costs associated with the care, but the administration of that care and the communication between the provider and the insurer is flawed. It shouldn’t be this hard. How many elderly or individuals with reduced capacity have been bilked out of hundreds or thousands of dollars because of a fundamental lack of understanding of how medical billing works? How many actually suspect a problem and contact a patient advocate to investigate?

The other problem lies at the heart of medical insurance, coding. The process shouldn’t be that hard. If you are going to issue insurance to someone and state that they are responsible for a co-pay, unless they are admitted, then they need to stop the line right there. If you are going to say, “If they are admitted, the co-pay will be waived unless the following happens… that’s where you start to dilute the message. A or B, not A.1, B.2, B.2.3. This will solve two problems. First off, you’ll get paid quicker. If there is no debate over if A or B happened, then there is no question of ownership. That leads to the second problem being solved. If you state that either you will or won’t be billed based on a set number of actions then you don’t get people calling you up to complain, debate, or question the matter. This leads to a reduction of service requests made on the call center. That leads to a reduction in escalations and man hours spent investigating the matter. I could go on down the line to the actual cost of an employee to a company involved in any given dispute but who cares. The matter is simple. You pay or you don’t. This meeting of certain criteria revolves around a interpretation of procedure or a refusal to see outside the box. Take thinking out of the equation. Yes or no. Was that person admitted? Then the co-pay is waived. Did that person get released from the ER? Then they pay.

I said before if the matter was not up for debate, I would have gladly paid off the balances and just gone about my way. My daughter’s health is more important than a couple hundred bucks. But, I’ve learned to not accept anything at face value. I should understand the importance of my care and my dependents and seek out the best possible choice that results in proper care at the proper cost. I bet the insurance company didn’t think that meant them in this equation. I know better. I am an informed consumer. Now you are, too.


* The correct answer was b) $100. Additional costs were eight ibuprofen, a few bruises from banging my head against my desk, and the color from a few hairs.

Den Of a Sick Kiddie

I don’t take care of myself as well as I should. I could stand to lose probably 100 pounds if I listen to my Wii Fit. When I stand on the balance board, it says, “One at a time, please.” (rim shot) Frankly, if I lost 60 pounds I’d be happy. Granted, how I lose that weight is up for debate. I don’t have a horrible diet. I usually eat a bowl of cereal for breakfast. For lunch, it’s usually something leftover, a yogurt, a diet pop, and an apple that I eat on the way home from work. Dinner is the bad meal which is either two helpings of whatever my In-Laws are cooking or something off the menu at our favorite places. Still, I only eat about half of that and keep the rest for lunch the next day. Ok, I will say that lately, we’ve been eating a bowl of ice cream in the late evening and that is bad. My problem is my sedentary lifestyle. I don’t have enough exercise to counter balance all that food. So, if I exercised more I could probably shed a few pounds before I plateau and have to change my diet. Or, I could just get the stomach flu and throw it up continuously for three days.

That’s what my toddler daughter did this past weekend. She also did it over Valentine’s Day weekend, too. It all started Thursday evening. The little one seemed fine Thursday night. She had a bout with a little diarrhea and then sat on the floor with us in the living room watching television. Then, for no reason, she started crying and drooling. Her hands pointed at her mouth as she sobbed made us think she bit her tongue. We dismissed it after she calmed down and put her to bed. Not even twenty minutes later she began crying. Usually, we would wait and see if she would just go back to sleep but she didn’t. We went in and found vomit all over her bed. We immediately feared that our little friend the flu virus had come back to town.

Now, amidst all this latest scare over the H1N1, which I refuse to call it that, to me it’s Swine Flu. Why? Most of the news outlets and the government have stayed away from this pig connotation fearing an impact on the pork industry. For me, I’m not that paranoid because I only eat cured ham. (rim shot 2). Besides the puns, it’s funny to see as this spamdemic grows, so does the graphic of the pig over the shoulder of the news anchor on television. It’s like West Nile. It started out as a regular sized mosquito, but as the epidemic grew, so did the picture. Then they started adding red eyes and fangs and a shifty disposition to the image. In any case, I didn’t worry about Swine Flu, even though I was karmically due after all my jokes and shirts involving the scare. As you do note, I did include my second and third Swine Flu based designs in this post. I have to pay the bills, you know.

Swine Flu: Know the difference

Where was I? Oh, right sick kid. So, after we gave her a bath and she managed to throw up all over herself and the tub in the process, we got her stabilized and back down for the night. Thinking this just might be food related as she had a bowl of cottage cheese at dinner, we didn’t give much thought to us catching the bug like we did in February. If so, we would have been hugging the toilet by now. I needed to go to work in the morning so I tried to go to bed while my wife stayed up with our daughter. Unfortunately, she didn’t like the idea of having a bucket put in front of her when she showed signs that she was going to vomit and would run down the hall screaming towards our bedroom. Needless to say, I got little sleep and my wife got no sleep.

Friday presented us with little comfort. While we could see that our kiddo was in no way shape or form back to her old self we didn’t have any more vomiting so we thought we were in the clear. My wife had a doctor’s appointment in the evening and opted to let our daughter take it in order to get a clearer understanding of what was going on since we were still bug free. We decided not to take any chances and took a bucket of chlorine water to all our daughter’s toys and any surfaces she may have touched.

Now, the PA suggested that if we still saw diarrhea on Saturday that we should call them. Unfortunately, they close at noon and the little one stayed in bed until 1:30. Once again, she had a blowout and her crib was soiled. We hemmed and hawed most of the day on whether to take her to the ER. We made that move the last time and she ended being poked and prodded for nothing. They did absolutely nothing for her. Finally, we noticed she had a fever and wasn’t drinking. When she did try to drink, she would dry heave. Off to the ER we went.

Usually, our child does not sit still. She runs everywhere and you have to constantly keep an eye on her when she is on a bed. However, as of late, she’s learned how to get off our bed which is considerably higher than any of our couches. She simply turns around and backs herself to the edge and lowers herself holding onto the sheets. This was all her ingenuity in figuring out. I had nothing to do with her method of descent. But here in the ER she sat squarely on the gurney and never moved. That is until they put an IV line in her to rehydrate her. She did not like that at all. They added a 750cc bag of electrolytes and drained it in an hour as well as an additional 250cc bag immediately after. They also gave her a Tylenol suppository (she wasn’t going to keep it down otherwise) when we first arrived which treated her 101.7 degree fever. They also gave her something for nausea. Now, in introducing all three of these elements to her system, the charge nurse felt it would be comforting to my daughter to have me sit on the gurney and hold her. Unfortunately, she then let loose with a huge deluge into her diaper which then made its way onto my shorts. The staff offered me a pair of blue scrubs which didn’t have a button on them, giving away the ending. I travelled home, fed our cats and changed my clothes.

After a few hours and a hundred dirty diapers. She managed to stop dry heaving and became very still. The poor thing never flinched when they did a blood draw on her opposite arm which gave the charge nurse a sense of discomfort. The decision was made to admit her and we thought we had an option on where. The ER we were at was sold to a larger health system and they no longer handled Obstetrics or Pediatrics. A hospital in the system that would take her was not even ten minutes up the road. The other option was Children’s Hospital in Pittsburgh. While I would normally say, go to Children’s, they had just moved into a new facility that day and the normal routes to the hospital were blocked because of the Pittsburgh Marathon taking place the following day.

I pulled the car seat from our Malibu wagon and had them attach it a stretcher for the ambulance ride to the hospital. I then went home again to pack a bag for the night and take care of other errands that we normally do each night. I packed a huge suitcase which meant one bag to worry about. It contained everything from playing cards, more diapers, more wipes, my CPAP device (Sleep Apnea), extra clothes, some reading material, and my laptop to keep in touch with some friends on Facebook that were aware of the situation.

I arrived at the hospital around 2:45AM and headed up to our room. The staff gave us a private room, which they probably do in a case like this. They also gave us a Murphy bed to go along with the chair that folded out into a bed. The little one was a little more subdued and seemed in better spirits after being rehydrated. She even wanted a bottle. We eventually got some dinner which consisted of a “Wheel of Death” sandwich for my wife and a Snicker’s bar for me. We settled in for a couple hours of sleep.

Sunday showed a marked improvement in her disposition and she managed to take in a couple bites of vanilla pudding and half of a chocolate bar square. She also drank some juice. They removed her IV drip but kept the line in and she continually want to play with the wrapping on it. After a brief nap she got a visit from both my mom and my wife’s parents. Each brought our daughter’s favorite thing, balloons. At 2:30 the doctor came in and spoke to us about everything. We were given discharge papers and home by 7:00PM. However, the fun didn’t stop there. After she went down for a nap, my wife and I caught up on all the housework we missed during our hospital stay. I scrubbed the cat litters, unpacked our suitcase and unloaded the dishwasher. She did laundry and cleaned the downstairs of our house. Our daughter woke up and then tried to nap on me, all the while complaining of a belly ache. She eventually went up the hallway and what sounded like a huge tuba being played echoed up the hallway. Her stomach ache was gone along with the integrity of the air in our upstairs hallway. After changing her she laid down on a pillow and blanket spread out on the floor of our living room. She slept for another two hours and we had trouble waking her up. We conceded that we would just put her down for the night but she awoke, asking for noodles and pop. After a bit of the Boyardee shells and some ginger ale managed to stick with her and we felt better as we only found trace amounts of diarrhea in her last diaper change before bed time.

Through all this, both my wife and myself have been able to avoid getting sick, although I am starting to feel a little nauseous but that could be sleep deprivation. While I would take the stomach flu three times over in a trade off for my daughter’s health, I remember what it was like the last time we had it and it wasn’t fun. And while I sometimes get a little perturbed at her inability to sit and play in one spot instead of running all over the place, I can’t stand seeing her as lethargic and listless as she gets when she has the flu. I’ve become a full blown parent, now. The only thing that will probably make me more nauseous will be her teenage years. I have some time to prepare, though.

Oh, and here's the other design. This one takes a little more of a stop the hype approach...

Statistically speaking, human flu kills more per year than animal based flus.
Humans: Still the leading cause of death... in everything.

A Job More Important Than Brain Surgeon

I haven’t been posting with my normal frequency. A couple of posts back I went into great detail about my Mother-in-Law’s diagnosis with a brain tumor. For any of those of you who are wondering, the prognosis is good. Let me start off by giving a big thanks and kudos to the staff and doctors of UPMC Shadyside. Anyone familiar with medicine and hospital care has probably heard of the UPMC Health System. Being a resident of the Southwestern Pennsylvania area, we have access to some of the most cutting edge technology in hospitals. Granted, there are bigger and more advanced facilities but we hold our own here. The care my Mother-In-Law received was excellent and the staff should be commended on their skills. I’d also like to send a big shout out to Wendy’s for their Baconator Combo Meal and PBS Kids Sprout, but more on that later.

Last I had stated, my wife’s Mother went through an MRI and was admitted to hospital for testing. Two days in the ER and two days in the Neurosurgery wing later, she came home and prepared for surgery. They had given her steroids to reduce the swelling which had caused the loopy behavior. Now, they were going to go in and remove a tumor, roughly 5 cm in size. She was going to endure about four hours of surgery, three to four days of recovery in the hospital and two weeks’ worth of home recovery before going back to work. Truthfully, that’s not too bad. They don’t expect any rehabilitation or adverse effects from poking her in the head. They’re were off on their estimates.

Now before you start to sink and think the worst, realize I said they were off on their estimates. I didn’t say how. It turns out she was in surgery for little more than an hour and a half and was awake immediately after. She spent Wednesday evening and most of Thursday in ICU recovery and then got moved to a room in the Neurosurgery wing. She came home on Friday. The only hurdle we have left to clear is the two weeks of home recovery. See, no doom and gloom.

While I can’t go into any great details about her experience I can give you a glimpse into what it is like as a spectator to the event. Because, as you know, it’s all about me. From my perspective, I’ve had to watch from the outside looking in on the ups and downs of my Mother-in-Law’s health issues. Only recently have I become a more active player but the recent events have been more of an exercise in child management than moral support.

When I got the call from my MIL, as she will be referenced here on out, I was sitting at my desk like always. I had been conversing with her cousin about her impeding MRI and she had mentioned about my MIL stopping at mailboxes and running red lights on the way there. She had been acting rather distant and confused for a month. She seemed meek and this is a woman that is a mama bear. She will knock you down and tell you like it is. For her to have this look of confusion on her face when trying to eat her dinner, you know something is wrong.

And the MRI almost didn’t happen. She had an appointment with her PCP and was planning on telling them everything was fine. My wife, a new mama bear on her way to full membership, was going with her to make sure they understood what was really happening. She helped to get the MRI in the works. Then, my MIL coworkers kept the wheel spinning when my MIL decided she was going to just cancel or reschedule the MRI because she felt fine. They forced her to go…but nobody offered to drive, unfortunately.

So, there I am twiddling away the afternoon when I got the call. “You need to go home now. I need to go to the ER and you won’t have a babysitter for the afternoon.” I didn’t really understand how it all worked. I just did what I was told. I left work, and started home. She called me on my cell and asked if I was on my way. I missed part of the message. Originally, I thought I was going home as her husband, our babysitter, was going to be on his way to pick her up for the trip to the ER. Apparently, I was to take her home, first. Luckily, I was only at the other end of the road her office is on and turned around.

In the car, she quickly tried to contact some people and seemed with it more than usual. I asked her if her or her husband had told my wife, yet. They hadn’t and I specifically told them not to. I would take care of it when I got there. My fear was that one of them would call and tell her on the phone while our daughter was in her presence. Knowing my wife, I was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face and her distressed look would upset the baby. Since our daughter is still less than two years old, she doesn’t quite understand what is about to happen but she does sense tension and despair and her empathic ability carries over into her mood. Her world was going to be thrown upside down and I wanted it to try and stay clear of the debris.

I dropped my MIL off and headed home. The three minute drive from one house to the other wasn’t long enough in my opinion. Here I was about to tell my wife that her Mother was going to the ER and that she needed to contact her oncologist and have him consult with a neurosurgeon. There’s no easy way to cram all that medical jargon into a more digestible chunk without sounding insincere or flippant. I practiced again and again how I would tell her. Not to mention, I was going to have to somehow deliver the bad news with a smile and upbeat demeanor so that my daughter doesn’t catch onto it. I decided to wing it as I pulled into the driveway. My wife was just getting out of the shower and was puzzled as to why I was there instead of her Dad. She had already sensed something was wrong and I immediately asked her if the baby was napping. Luckily, she had just gone down and my wife had every opportunity to act naturally.

She only caught three words out of my entire speech. “ER”, “Oncologist” and “Neurosurgeon.” Everything else was white noise. She began wandering around the house not making any logical motions. Putting things away that didn’t present any issue being out. Trying to get ready to teach lessons that she was going to have to cancel because she was going to go to the hospital. I asked her if she wanted me to take her or to stay with our daughter while she went. She needed me to be there so, I called my Mother to come and sit with the baby. While my wife called her students, I made every possible provision to ensure a smooth stay for my Mom because I didn’t know when we’d be back. I filled up the gas in our car so that if she had to travel, she had a baby seat. I moved all of the cats, their food and their litter box into our room. She’s allergic. I got out different foods and snacks for them to have for dinner and I started listing all of our cell numbers and what hospital we’d be at on the refrigerator.

Our daughter woke up right before my Mother arrived which is nice because she sees us first. That keeps her life simple and normal. We left for the ER and found out that there was some kind of mass on my MIL’s brain and that they needed to reduce the swelling first. This was the cause for her mental state. That state seemed fine to me as she and the nurse attending to her in the ER had a very upbeat and snappy banter about needle sticks, health care, and all around bedside manner. I don’t know if she was using humor and snarky comments as a defense mechanism but it worked. The nurse was laughing hysterically as were we.

After three more days in the hospital, my MIL came home with a plan of action. The surgeon was confident about procedure and she was scheduled for a Wednesday surgery. I took off work for the last half of the week and got the marching orders.

Wednesday: My wife and FIL were going down with my MIL for surgery. I was staying home until the baby awoke and then will transport her to my parents and join my wife at the hospital.
Thursday: My daughter had a doctor’s appointment, so I was going to be with her, then probably wouldn’t see my wife until late.
Friday: Everything was probably just status quo in recovery and I could go to work and then take over watching the little one while my wife goes to the hospital.
Weekend: Play by ear.

I did what I could to keep busy in the quiet of my house while my daughter slept. I fiddled with my computer, caught up on my DVR recordings and generally became bored out of my mind. Meanwhile, my MIL was having her head cracked open like a walnut so that they could look inside for something that didn’t belong. Once the baby was up, I fed her, packed her whole world into the car and left for my 40 minute drive to my parents. After running down the list of things I could remember, I parted with my daughter and headed for Pittsburgh. One thing I will share with you about this experience. I’ve acquired some new skills. I am now able to eat a full meal from Wendy’s, including a frosty, while driving 65 mph on the Turnpike. Previously, I had always required two hands to eat a Frosty. They require a fork. A straw just doesn’t cut it. I managed to be able to place it in the cup holder and spoon out the frosty goodness without dripping. Both Friday of the last week and today I had to grab my lunch on the go from Wendy’s and I have gained a huge love of the Baconator sandwich. I highly recommend picking up one…or three.

I got to the hospital around 4pm and sat with my extended family in the ICU family lounge. As I stated earlier, surgery was abnormally quick. It was the kind of situation where you think the worst. The kind where the doctor informs you that there was no way to do the operation because of the tumor or that she arrested before they could even get it all out. Seeing a doctor that quick is enough to make your stomach fall out of your ass. Luckily, it was just a quick surgery.

We were allowed to see her in ICU soon after and she looked like a reject from a punk show or someone that had passed out at a party before removing their shoes. Her hair was all messed up with red and yellow patches of color and there was marker writing near her temple. I couldn’t read what was written but in my sick and twisted sense of humor I asked if that was where they notated to “DO NOT CUT” or “CUT LEFT OF HERE.” She had a pounding headache which was normal but had very good cognitive skills.

My wife was a bundle of nerves and constantly needled the doctors for more information prompting my FIL to ask for some Duct Tape. I could understand her state of mind. She and her Mother are very close and ever since her first diagnosis of renal cell cancer in 97, she has become very attached to her. I fear one day it will be very, very hard. I just hope that it’s a situation where she goes in her sleep as a very old woman from natural causes. It’s never easy to lose a parent but this is a connection that transcends normal Mother-Daughter relationships. You have to admire that. One of the aspects of this family that I have grown to love is how Daughters take care of their Mothers, young and old alike.

Finally allowing her to get some much needed rest, we went to pick up our Daughter to get some normalcy in our evening. She was very good for my parents and my wife decided and her parents recommended that she needed to stay home on Thursday as nothing new was going to happen. No test results were going to come in on the tissue that was removed. She wasn’t going to have any changes in care. She needed to just rest and my wife needed to let her. She also needed to go with me to our Daughter’s doctor appointment as I am still a novice when it comes to handling all the particulars.

Come Friday, my wife was simply going in with her Father to help get her Mother home. This was a highly improbable event. After having major brain surgery on Wednesday, she was coming home on Friday. I understand that patient turnaround in a major hospital is essential to maintain, but I just couldn’t believe that she was cleared for this. Granted, when my wife was in for the birth of our child, she opted to come home a day early because she was ready to climb the walls. This was something she regretted as she really needed another day of recovery in a hospital setting. You live and you learn. However, cesarean births and brain surgery are two different matters, yet my wife was in the hospital longer than her Mother in this respect.

While my wife got her Mother settled in and cleaned up around the house in preparation for the inevitable guests and well wishers to arrive, I stayed home once again and watched our Daughter. Since I wasn’t going to be dropping her off anywhere it was just a Daddy-Daughter day and we watched television. First there was Zaboomafoo. Then there was Barney & Friends. Next, was Play With Me, Sesame. Finally, there was Caillou. My Daughter was enthralled and sat on my lap with her “Blangy” (Blanket) and her “BaJoose” (Bottle of Juice) during most of the block of kids programming. Otherwise, she was playing with her Mrs. Potato Head or other toys scattered about our living room.

By Saturday, things were returning to normal. My wife was slowly getting back into her routine. My MIL was slowly recovering all her faculties. And I was slowly recovering from all the junk food and Baconators I had been eating over the last week. Wanting to do something special for me in all this, my wife said we should go shopping and said it was time to get the Wii. This is the same Wii I have mentioned in Free Wii 4 Me: Parts One and Two. I finally got it and boy are my arms tired.

So, while I wasn’t an active participant in all my wife’s family drama concerning her Mother and the tumor, I played, what I felt was an equally important and vital role. Because sometimes, the biggest impact and contribution you can make in any stressful and complex situation is to just keep the status quo for the smallest of affected individuals. In any crisis there needs to be that one person who maintains a unified front, calming those who need it the most, even if it’s just being a chauffeur or a television buddy. That was me. You may be the brain surgeon, but I am the Daddy and that makes me more important here.