Personal Edition
This is probably not the update you were expecting. There will be two posts today, but the second one will most likely be on one of the websites I seldom use. Don’t worry, I’ll post it to Facebook for you. Yes, I’m absolutely furious over the voting results. We have a situation, though, that supersedes the coming fascism being brought into our lives. Please, by all means, pull up a chair, grab a cup of coffee (I just made a fresh pot), and let’s chat.
Our house is no longer safe. I don’t want to get into the messy details, but Kat can’t come home for any length of time and I need to move into an Assisted Living facility ASAP. The problem is fixable and Kat and her Dad are working on that. However, solving the problem means extensive demolition of various parts of the house. I still have five months of chemo and unknown effects after that. I CANNOT LIVE HERE DURING THE DEMOLITION AND RECONSTRUCTION. I need your help finding an Assisted Living facility that doesn’t suck.
United Healthcare, which manages my insurance, recommends the following places:
Assisted Living
by Bloom at Eagle Creek
5045 West 52nd Street, Indianapolis, IN
Residential Services
by Benchmark Human Services
2431 Directors Row, Suite A, Indianapolis, IN
Assisted Living
by Summit Place West
55 Mission Dr, Indianapolis, IN
Assisted Living
by Oasis at 30th
5651 E 30th St, Indianapolis, IN
Community Living Services
by Putnam County Comprehensive Services Inc
810 Loews Boulevard, Greenwood, IN
Youth – Hospitality Club
by St. Augustine Home
2345 W 86th St, Indianapolis, IN
Assisted Living
by American Senior Communities (ASC)
3530 Shelby Street, Indianapolis, IN
Group Homes
by ResCare Community Living
8041 Knue Road, Indianapolis, IN
Assisted Living
by CrownPointe Communities
7365 E 16th St, Indianapolis, IN
Assisted Living
by Sanders Glen Retirement Community
334 South Cherry Street, Westfield, IN
The website lists five more, but they’re much further away, such as Bloomington, Lafayette, and South Bend. I contacted all of these through the website on Monday, but have not received a reply from any of them. I attempted to call the first two yesterday, but it did not go well. My brain went blank and I couldn’t answer the most basic questions. I stuttered and stammered through the conversations until both recommended I have someone else call on my behalf. Both sounded irritated.
I am not well. All you see of me is what I type here. These updates take more than two hours for me to write. I’ve been awake since 3:00 this morning trying to figure out exactly what to say. I can occasionally, with some warning, ramp myself up to be aware, cognizant, and conversant for a few hours. I can often walk without my cane for a while. I’ve not lost my hair and physically people can’t see any sign of my disability if I don’t want them to, and I never want them to.
When I’m here, at home, alone? I stop pretending. I spend hours doing nothing but staring at my walls because my brain won’t engage anything. The dogs have to paw hard at my arm, often leaving scratches, to get my attention. Cats will lie in my lap and I’ll not be aware that they’re present until I try to stand up. Remembering to take my medicine, especially the night set, requires setting multiple alarms. I try to not cook on the stove when I’m here by myself because I worry I’ll forget what I’m doing and accidentally burn the house down.
I am not safe. I need help.
Finances are tight. I have $127 left in my bank account to get me through the rest of the month. Bills will eat all of that and a bit more. Fortunately, the fridge and freezer are full. The only thing we’re likely to need is milk. But how am I supposed to pay for an Assisted Living facility when I’m this broke? I’m not sure I qualify for financial assistance and even if I do I’m pretty sure I am not competent enough to complete the paperwork.
I don’t want to do this. I’ll miss being around Kat and the kids. I can’t take the dogs and they won’t understand why I’m gone. I’ll be even more isolated than I already am. No one will come to visit. I’ll likely be the youngest person there and, I’m sorry, but I don’t always get along well with people who are much older than me (Tony is an exception). Depending on the facility, I may need to furnish my own furniture. I don’t have any furniture other than my bed and I need to leave that for Kat. Where am I going to get furniture? This isn’t going to be fun. I can’t imagine existing in such a place and not hating every moment. Yet, continuing to stay here is not remotely feasible. I need to be somewhere now.
I HATE admitting that I need this much help. I’ve spent the past two years trying to hide the decline and I’m failing more each day. There are days when I wish my heart would just stop beating. I’m not suicidal, mind you. I’m just ready for all this to be over. What good am I to anyone?
And the damn election didn’t make things any better.
Who am I? Why am I here? Who cares?
