Beware, before you invest your time in today’s update, that I’m emotional, have been awake since 2:00, haven’t had coffee yet, and probably shouldn’t be considered sane at this moment. Also, be aware that not everything yesterday went poorly. I did have a wonderful time sharing coffee with a friend. It was the first time I’d been outside the yard in a month, and I appreciated the company. There were plenty of opportunities for the day to go worse than it did.
The problem didn’t come until we were sitting down at dinner. Kat attempted to explain in reasonable terms that the situation here at the house would soon be untenable for me. There are a host of repairs that are going to start soon. There’s no question that the repairs are necessary; they have been for some time. But there is pressure for her to make those repairs now and that’s going to create an environment that is unhealthy for me.
Making matters more difficult is the fact that we can’t afford to pay contractors to do the work. She’s going to do it all herself with some help from friends. That includes replacing the bathroom plumbing that is literally crumbling in the walls. This means that for some span of time, there will have to be a portable toilet in the yard. There will be no shower until the work is done. Several walls, possibly including those in the Recovery Room, will have to be replaced. There will be dust and debris all over the place. This is definitely not the kind of environment where I can recuperate from all the chemo.
If contractors were handling the job with a full crew, it would probably take two-three months to complete. That’s not terribly long, but would still come with all the health challenges. It would be unreasonable to expect Kat to do the work herself anywhere nearly as quickly. Where this gets sticky, however, if that there are still projects started during the pandemic shutdown four years ago that haven’t been finished. Kat’s busy. It takes all her time just trying to make ends meet. She gets home and doesn’t have the energy to rip down drywall or replace the shower. I don’t doubt her ability to do the work, but can she even get the work done before it starts getting cold again next fall? There are reasons to be doubtful.
I’m not sure who is pushing her to get the work done now. I don’t know that it matters. Whoever it is has convinced her that the work has to be done. The condition the house currently is in could cause legal problems if the wrong people were called. That fear has been deeply instilled and the only way to address it is to fix the problems. Now. The momentary discomfort comes secondary to keeping her and the kids together.
But there are other issues. Zoning has to approve whatever is done. That means there have to be plans submitted and permits pulled. Who’s going to do that? How long is that approval going to take? The ultimate zoning hearing could open us up to criticism from the nosy neighbor who keeps reporting the status of our lawn each summer. Her contrarian voice could cause all manner of unforeseen trouble. Even putting building materials inside the fence could become a point of contention. There are troubles for even thinking about doing the work. Kat doesn’t need any more stress and that’s what this work is going to cause. A lot more stress than anyone needs.
Who wants a roommate? Me moving out resolves the problem of me surviving while the work is going on, not to mention the awkwardness of me taking yet another nap while everyone around me is working their ass off. There really is little choice but for me to be elsewhere. Of course, there are some big problems there are well, starting with the fact that I really can’t afford to go anywhere on my own.
I did a lot of looking at rental properties after dinner last night. At first, I thought that perhaps I could do a long-stay hotel somewhere nearby. HA! There’s nothing like that available for less than $1200 a month at the bottom end. Most come in around $3,500 to $4,800 a month. That’s more than four times the amount I get from Social Security. Definitely not an option.
The absolute cheapest amenities I could find come in between $400-$500 a month, which I might make work. However, their co-living arrangements in a house with roommates. While they offer my own bathroom and bedroom, everything is shared. That’s a problem while I’m on chemo. I don’t share anything because of the risk of toxins lingering on things such as plates and silverware. Not to mention the fact that one doesn’t get to choose their roommates in these situations. They could be not-so-very-nice people. They might even be Republicans. I’m too old to be living in a reboot of “Friends.” This isn’t going to work at all.
Kat would like for me to be in an assisted living facility. The upside would be a private room, cleaning services, prepared meals, planned activities, transportation to the doctor, and a 24/7 nursing staff in case something goes sideways. This sounds like a good idea until you start looking at all the details. We’ve actually been looking here for almost a year and the more I look, the more problems I find.
First is the cost. Oh my fucking god! We’re looking at $5,600 a month in the neighborhood and up for the median level of service. Again, way more than I make from social security. My current insurance won’t pay for it. They’ll pay for 100 in-home visits a year, which is realistically only a step away from not having any help at all. If I were on Medicaid, it would cover the costs at some facilities, but as of last week, even the nasty low-end facilities have a waiting list of 10+ people. I’m not going to get in before construction needs to start.
Then, let’s look at the reality of the social situation. I’d be the young person in the facility by 12-15 years. Several facilities won’t even consider anyone under 65. I’m accustomed to being around significantly younger people. I get my energy and ideas from young people. Younger people help me feel plugged into the world and everything happening. Assisted living facilities, no matter what they say, serve institutionalized food and we both know damn good and well that can barely be passable on many occasions. They rely on old people losing their sense of taste. Staff turnover is high because, despite the cost of a room, the workers don’t make enough money to live on, have to deal with the bad attitudes of people who don’t know where they are, and are often disregarded by management. Every few weeks you’re breaking in someone new. Public reports on some lower-end facilities, the ones most likely to take Medicaid, show high numbers of reports of abuse and a lack of appropriate care.
This is just barely a step above living in a tent outside. I’ll only go if the only other choice is homelessness.
The final option is a small studio or one-bedroom apartment with utilities included. I’ve spent a good bit of the night looking at these options since I wasn’t able to sleep. Prices run from right around $600 a month on up. The biggest difference in prices seems to have to do with the age of the facility and where it is located. Those with lower prices tend to be in more challenging neighborhoods where not only is crime more of an issue but the availability of amenities such as shopping, dining, and entertainment is likely to be further away.
On the plus side, these places offer a decent level of privacy, come with kitchen appliances, and avoid the issue of having to secure utilities and deal with their fluctuating prices. The typical size is between 650-750 square feet. Deposits on several are as low as $300. I could *possibly* have enough money to move in by the first of June or something close to that.
The downside is that my credit score requires a shovel to find it, which automatically makes the process difficult. Depending on the type of security and where the apartment is located, getting anything delivered can be challenging without the risk of it being stolen. Letting guests in can be challenging as well. I’ve seen some apartments where one has to physically let the guest through the locked door.
I’m not worried about going over the income caps that several places have. Even if my Social Security was increased to the allowable limit, I’d still be well under the income cap for a single person. In the year before I met Kat (2012), I stayed in some of these places and while their security measures might make some things a little inconvenient, they were pretty much decent places that were good for those on fixed incomes.
Considering an apartment comes with some unique concerns. One is having someone watch over me regularly. Here, we have to consider whether I can get back on Medicaid. That would provide a higher level of service than my current insurance. However, on my 65th birthday, I’d get dumped from Medicaid and put on Medicare which is a whole new mess of government red tape trying to make sure old people die and get out of the way.
One option worth considering is Amazon’s new emergency service through its Alexa system. The cost is only $6/month and renews automatically. In addition to calling 911, it can call other emergency contacts as well. Is this going to take longer than having someone in-house all the time? Depends on the size of the house. Nursing facilities typically have one nurse per 100 residents. If that nurse is already busy when you call, it can be several minutes before anyone gets to you. 911, on the other hand, does its best to get to you ASAP, preferably in under three minutes.
An apartment also comes with the challenge of not having furnishings. I have a bed. I had a recliner. I have a file cabinet. That’s it. The desk I’m using is Kat’s. The coffee pot and microwave are Kat’s. I have a couple of lamps and a turntable. I do have a bookshelf but it would depend on the apartment’s rules as to whether I could attach it to the wall. I’ve never been especially picky about things like sofas and coffee tables. As I get older, though, sitting on the floor or having to bend over constantly to use the computer becomes more of an issue. Of course, I have plenty of pictures for the walls.
Included among the list of things I need to do today is making a call to the Social Security office. They want to confirm my residence. What do I tell them? How much is it going to mess things up if I let them know I need to move within the next six weeks? The last thing I need is more paperwork on my desk or matters getting any more confusing than they already are. I could use help, but not the over-the-phone kind. I need someone who can be right next to me, making sure I’m filling things out correctly. I have a laptop. Come get me and we can do things over coffee.
By the way, the coffee shop has its spring drink menu out and it looks really good.
The final matter to worry about is the loneliness that is going to happen no matter how this plays out. There’s no taking the dogs anywhere they don’t have room to run. Cats come with pet fees and I don’t have money for that. What I am constantly reminded of is that loneliness is a worse killer than heart disease, cancer, or diabetes. While Kat’s promised that I’ll see her and the kids at least once a week, what about all the other times? If there’s nothing safe within walking distance, how will I pass the time I normally spend interacting with or watching over the kids? Will I just pathetically sit here and try to deal with the depression without blowing my brains out? I don’t have a lot of confidence in my ability to deal with the quiet and loneliness well. I need people in my life and I need them to be people that I like. I have no idea how to solve this problem anymore. It’s not like when I first moved here and could hit people up to take pictures. I have nothing that makes me attractive to anyone new. Nothing.
I’m open to reasonable suggestions. I’m also old and very set in my ways. I need to make a move within the next six weeks or things become difficult for all of us.