kshandra: (Wedding)
I was close; "3pm" in hospitalese turned out to be about 5pm. There was a stop for discharge scripts (a potassium supplement and Medication #3 for the oral thrush), and then we came home. He's in the bedroom now, having just gotten off the phone with his mom.

We are still, as I said in the email to my boss that led to the matching funds for the Indiegogo campaign, "both scared, and both trying to hide it from each other, but we both know each other too well for it to work." But for right now, he's home, and I have to let that be enough.
kshandra: figurine of a teddybear seated at an office desk, looking at a computer (Default)
I'll start with today's news: [personal profile] gridlore is due to be released around 3pm today. (Which is probably 6pm in hospitalese, but we're used to it by now.) Nothing official yet as to what might be wrong, but he saw a specialist yesterday who had some theories, and we'll say more about that when we get confirmation.

Yesterday, however, was fucking difficult for both of us.

I arrived at lunchtime to discover that Doug was on isolation protocol - mask, gloves, and gown - while they checked him for C. diff. Adding insult to injury, the isolation gowns didn't fit me; the nurse cleared me to go in without one, but it was just one more dig I didn't need.

I got back to the office after a couple of hours with Doug and was immediately greeted with two phonecalls one of my co-irkers had mishandled, a round of Geek Answer Syndrome as both of my co-irkers tried to brainstorm what had happened to Doug that I finally had to shut down before I ran out of the building screaming, and a call to a prospective customer (attempting to do damage control on one of the earlier fuckups) who promptly began trying to railroad me into doing things that weren't physically possible. I wound up staying two hours late just so I had time to myself in the building and could actually get some work done. (I'm still under 40hrs for the week, thanks to Thursday's ER trip, so I didn't mind much.)

I was already burnt out when I got back to the hospital in the evening, and Doug wasn't much better, so I didn't stay long. I knew I wasn't going to sleep when I got home, though, so I found a How It's Made marathon on TV (I was hoping for Bourdain, but it was still nicely soothing) and did a little work on the crowdfunding campaign. (We broke 20% last night/this morning!) Finally crawled into bed around 11:30, but didn't fall asleep right away, which was just as well, because it meant I was awake when my phone pinged:

cut for emetophobes )

Before I left last night, I let Doug know that I was planning to spend the morning at home; the Rock & Roll Marathon has half the streets between home and the hospital closed until 1pm, and I had errands that needed doing. And truth be told, I needed a break - I'm pretty sure I've been in Crisis Mode since his last hospital stay last month, and neither of us can afford for me to crash in the middle of all of this. So I've got more How It's Made on the TV (this time courtesy of YouTube and the Roku player I got for my birthday) and laundry in the dryer (which appears to have actually stayed fixed this time, thank g_d, because I'd be in jail for killing our landlord if it hadn't worked today), and I'll head over once I have a clean change of clothes for him.

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...
kshandra: Graffiti of hands ripping open a dress shirt, Superman fashion, to reveal the word FAIL (FAIL)
Tonight's story actually starts on Sunday afternoon; those of you who follow us elsewhere on social media have already heard this part. [personal profile] gridlore and I spent a couple of delightful hours at the welcome-home party for [livejournal.com profile] johnnyeponymous's twin boys (I got to hold one of them! It was awesome!), then decided we would go hide at the mall for a while after that, as it was still 87 bazillion degrees out. We got drinks at Pizza My Heart and sat for a bit, then were getting ready to walk over to the Giants Dugout store to see what might be on sale...

...and Doug almost came crashing down next to me when his foot stopped responding to muscle commands.

The foot that didn't have the proprioception issues after the stroke.

It's a damn good thing that the hospital is right around the corner from the mall. A teleporter might have gotten us there faster, but not by much.

We get taken back, they draw some labwork, and Doug's potassium is cratering. Having done this dance before, we both have an "Oh yeah..." moment. They stuff some K into him orally, and some more through an IV, and he gets discharged with instructions to follow up with his primary care doctor in 2-3 days.

Doc submits a lab order (which is a story in and of itself that I'll let Doug tell once he's home), and I drive Doug over to the hospital today to get it drawn along with his standing order for the anticoagulant clinic.

I've been back at work half an hour when Doug calls and says "The doctor is sending me back to the ER." Truth be told, I was half-expecting the call. Throw myself back into the car, come home and pick him up, and away we go again. Doug's primary doc tells him to ask for a nephrology consult once he's there; she was both approachable and communicative when she arrives, which is always a plus in a situation like this.

It took FOR-EV-ER to get sent up to a room today for some reason, though the ER itself was surprisingly "unbusy" (I stopped myself just short of using the Q word when I commented on this to the transport tech as we were finally going upstairs, and that was the word he supplied). But the room that finally did come open was a single bed (I'm not sure private vs. semi-private applies with the way the rooms are set up in "bays" at O'Connor), so that was a bonus. I had time enough during the hurry-up-and-wait phase to come home, pack a jump bag for Doug, and locate the library's copy of The Martian that had gone walkabout in our living room (which was needful, as there are at least three more people who have it on reserve after us, so we wouldn't have been able to renew it if it was still missing).

I then proceeded to read said book in one evening, between the ER and his room upstairs. At least I got something good out of today!

I finally came home about an hour ago, and I've been working on this post for 45 minutes. I still have work in the morning (where a MASSIVE tray of leftovers from this afternoon's barbecue awaits me in the fridge, because my office loves me as much as I love them), and Doug has asked me to stop by on my way in with some Gatorade for him (which he can have, as he doesn't have any dietary restrictions unlike the last visit), so I really need to get my ass to bed.
kshandra: Animated: Kermit the frog in front of a red velvet curtain, flailing happily (Yaaaaaaaaaay!)
Just got a call from [personal profile] gridlore; they're supposed to be discharging him "in an hour, hour and a half." Since this ain't our first rodeo, we know that's probably more like three hours, but still - he's coming HOME! (Which means I need to do All The Things now, but I will shuffle up and deal.)
kshandra: Animated: Film-style countdown clock, indicating "Next Mood Swing in 3...2...1..." (Mood Swing)
Today was kind of an up and down day for both of us. The victory of being upgraded to a clear liquid diet brought with it the challenge of trying to ingest said diet after well over a week of insufficient intake and two full days of nothing by mouth. (More than once I found myself thinking of some of the other clients from my time at Cielo House as I fed [personal profile] gridlore his broth at lunchtime, watching him have to psych himself up for the next spoonful.) Two of our Burning Man campmates stopped by for a visit while I was still there, though, and that was good.

We were also visited by the director of the phlebotomy lab, who came up to personally apologize after [livejournal.com profile] qeldoq put a word or two in the right ears. She left a card with a handwritten note and her business card clipped to it, and the assurance that she was going to talk to the department as a whole and the techs who had worked with Doug in particular about listening to patients when they're trying to give relevant information.

At this point, we were both pretty well wrung out from the activity, and I knew that if I kept sitting there I was going to fall asleep, so I made my way back to the office.

After work, I had to swing by the house to bring Doug a change of clothes...and the apartment decided to greet me by having the ceiling light in the living room fail. Between having to change that out (which involved a stepladder and a dropped setscrew as I was trying to replace the exterior globe) and the few minutes of chores I had already been planning to do when I came home, I was lucky I managed to pull myself back out of my chair to go back to the hospital. I at least had a bulb to replace the dying one (it was a CFL, so it didn't blow like a regular incandescent bulb would have, but it developed the classic fluorescent flicker), but it's a lower wattage than the last one, and the color temperature is different as well, so I absolutely need to replace it as soon as I have five seconds to spare. Which will be sometime in October at this rate. :-P

(I'm also, as should come as no surprise, trying very hard not to think about money right now. I'd just told Doug on Saturday that we had $x left to spend before my next check on the 21st, allowing for the two auto-debits that I know are coming out of the account before then...and that went right out the window as soon as he was admitted. My life has been office-hospital-office-hospital-sleep since then, without the time to even throw something in the microwave here in my few conscious hours. Add in my determination to only bring food up to Doug's room that he wasn't going to be tempted by while he was still NPO, and there's been a lot more seafood in my diet this week that wasn't in the original budget. I'm a little afraid to check the bank balance. So going out to buy lightbulbs is not something I want to have to prioritize.)

Tonight's visit wound up being short, as we were both tired, but he was in better spirits than he'd been when I left in the afternoon. Hopefully, there will be good news come morning, in the form of a discharge plan.
kshandra: The closing shot of The Breakfast Club, of John Bender with his fist in the air; "FTW" is superimposed over his body. (FTW)
[personal profile] gridlore, via text message 20 minutes ago: "I've now had three juice boxes. Body is confused, but I feel great." There's also an order in for Ensure. As I was typing this, he pinged again: "Finished my Ensure. I have chicken broth, but feel bloated."

This more than makes up for the lousy night I had; I was awake another two hours after last night's post, with my head spinning over how I really needed to be three people (wow, two years almost to the day since the last time I said that), so I'm running on maybe 4hrs of sleep. But knowing that he's on the path back to solid food and thence to discharge makes all the difference.
kshandra: Rachel Maddow looks skeptically at the camera. Text: "Rachel Does Not Approve Of This Bullshit." (Rachel - Does Not Approve)
...the part where [personal profile] gridlore feels fine, but the lab results don't agree, and I have to try and convince him that no, really, this is how it has to be. His appetite has finally come back online, and he's hungry enough - and angry enough about it - that he actually threatened to sign out AMA if he doesn't get some answers (and a damn meal) tomorrow. And I don't know that I'd be able to refuse him, as much as I might want to.

The levels of communication at that hospital - doctor/patient, inter-departmental - leave a great deal to be desired, but/and as long as the facility continues to get jerked around by current and potential owners, I don't see that changing, sadly.

And I have to get up an hour earlier than usual tomorrow because they're closing our street at 7am for road work, so I don't have the time to sit here fretting over things.
kshandra: Cartoon of a young girl, a purple streak in her hair, at a computer; the text reads "dear blog, I HATE EVERYONE!" (I Hate Everyone)
Today has been a very long week.

[personal profile] kshandra here, as Your Host is currently ensconced in a bed at O'Connor Hospital, being treated for pancreatitis.

"...wait, WHAT?!" I hear you all cry.

"I've been meaning to write an I've-been-sick post," [personal profile] gridlore said earlier this afternoon, in response to a FB comment I had read him from someone who was growing concerned in his extended silence there, "but I've been sick..."

And he has. We'd gone to a birthday party for the Emergency Back-up Niece and the Niece of Last Resort last weekend, and had initially thought that one of the little germ factories darlings there had given us something (I went home sick from work myself on Wednesday). By Saturday, however, we realized something greater appeared to be at work. He was running a low-grade fever, he hadn't been sleeping well, he was dealing with consistent abdominal pain (and related issues with which I will not disgust you). Monday, he called his doctor's office and got an appointment for this morning; he was already in bad enough shape that I told my boss that I'd be leaving early to drive him there.

We got to the doctor's office at 11:20; by 11:50 we were already pulling into the parking lot at the ER. They gave him The Good Stuff™ for the pain, and he was able to get some actual SLEEP between blood draws and CT scans and whatever all else. They told us around 4 that they'd be admitting him at least overnight (which we'd both been expecting, and had packed a jump bag for the purpose). It was after 7pm by the time they finally had a bed clear and took him up to the unit.

At which point the shift nurse started asking him all of the same questions the triage nurse had asked eight hours previously. Because the two systems aren't linked for G_d only knows what reason (perhaps literally, as O'Connor was founded by the Daughters of Charity).

I finally left somewhere around 8; [personal profile] murphymom was on her way back down the Peninsula after having her car worked on, and we agreed to meet for dinner/dessert. (I wasn't even all that interested in the concept of food, but I'd only eaten once today and new I needed to put something in my system.)

And then, for the final insult, I suggested we meet at a restaurant that I subsequently found out is currently closed for remodeling.

We regrouped and determined a Plan B, I devoured my meal as soon as it was in front of me (again, unsurprising - I knew I needed the fuel), we went our separate ways, and I started writing this as soon as I got home.

Now, I need to plan for tomorrow; Doug has asked me to bring his hearing aids (as trying to decipher the nurse's questions over the family of the other patient in the room was all but impossible), and I still need to figure out where the FUCK I managed to misplace the power cord for the Chromebook (which is really pissing me off, as I was the last person to use it, and I KNOW I brought the cord home with me).

And, of course, I have to go to work in and around all of the rest of this.

Updates as I have them; hopefully they'll be less disjointed than this one going forward.
kshandra: (Wedding)
From a comment I left on FB just now:

We don't need ["designer" hospital gowns in [personal profile] gridlore-approved fabrics] NOW, but when the day comes that he spends more time in hospitals than out of them, they'll be good to have. I know exactly what I want, too - a wrap-front top with dolman sleeves, with snaps in the shoulder seams. And what's frustrating is I can find wrap-front scrub patterns, and dolman sleeve scrub patterns, but not one with both, and I don't think my meager sewing skills are up to that kind of kitbashing. I should look for adaptive clothing patterns online.

EDITED: It's not exactly what I had envisioned originally, but a pattern that will absolutely suit our needs is now in the comments.
kshandra: (Wedding)
Even though it appears no one at that hospital talks to each other. But I'll get to that in a bit.

[personal profile] murphymom and I had a wonderful morning, doing a bit of shopping for her trip tomorrow, grabbing lunch, then going for mani-pedis together. We went to a slightly pricier salon than usual, but the treatment you get there (a hot-stone calf massage as part of the pedicure!) is worth it, IMO.

We had quite literally just gotten started at the salon when my phone rings, and [personal profile] gridlore asks me, "How soon can you get here?" It's something like 1:15, and he hasn't been able to eat yet today, because nobody can tell him whether or not they're doing the *&^%$#@! abdominal CT that they had to reschedule from last night.

I had a second load of laundry I'd been planning on doing once Mom dropped me off, but instead I grabbed my knitting and a bottle of soda for each of us and headed over to the hospital. Mercifully, by the time I got into the truck, Doug had come back from x-ray and had been able to order lunch.

I was pulling into the parking lot when I realized that I'd neglected to grab his earbuds and an extension cord for his phone charger. I figured I could at least get the former at the gift shop, but when all they had was Hello Kitty, I opted against it. :-P Walked out in time to see Doug's mom about 20 feet ahead of me; managed to get her attention, and we went up to the room together. She left after about an hour.

Somewhere in here, the kitchen called to find out if Doug would be placing a dinner order; he let them know he was still waiting to hear on his testing schedule, and promised he would call back before they closed.

Doug's rash has finally subsided enough that he's able to move without pain (the inflammation has been such that his skin was too tight; anyone who has ever dealt with edema knows exactly what I'm talking about here), so PT came by. He actually did two laps to the elevator and back, with a break in between; we had an entertaining discussion about cane sugar Coca-Cola while he caught his breath. The therapist gave him some stretching exercises to do in bed before he stands up, just to loosen the skin while the inflammation continues to subside...and then said that he'd looked steady enough that I'm welcome to take him for walks when I come visit! She asked that we call the nurse the first time we go out, just so they can observe and assure themselves that I'm capable of handling the situation, but that we should be fine on our own after that.

Had a visit from one of the rapid response nurses after the PT session; their team was alerted to Doug's case after some of his recent labwork, and they wanted to check in and make sure he wasn't at risk for sepsis or anything equally special. Satisfied that there was no cause for concern on that front, she took off, promising Doug she would check in with his primary nurse and ask her to find out if he was scheduled for anything else tonight.

When the nurse came in with his afternoon meds, she asked if he had ordered dinner yet. :-/ And then told him to go ahead and do it anyway, because they could always reheat something for him if he did get sent to CT. He didn't call in an order, largely because lunch was late enough and large enough that he really didn't have an appetite, and he was planning to doze on and off for the rest of the evening. I took that as my cue, kissed him goodbye, and left.

Got home early enough to do my second load of laundry, and had just brought it in from the dryer when the phone rang. It was Doug, calling to tell me that they'd moved him to a new room (he'd been in a semi-private with no roommate, and they'd had a patient come up to the ward who needed the extra space for some reason or another). "They would have to do this after they'd already given me my sleeping pill," he said...

And they'd sent him a dinner tray anyway. o.O He never even opened it.

Tomorrow I'm taking advantage of the fact that I'd already said I would be coming in late; obviously, we no longer have the conference with his treatment team at Mission Oaks, but I'm using that time to go to the Social Security office and find out what needs to be done to reactivate his previous federal disability claim.

Now, though, it is past time for me to go to sleep. And so I shall.
kshandra: (Wedding)
...both in and out of the hospital.

My intention for today was to triage the contents of my "floordrobe" preparatory to moving furniture in the bedroom, bagging much of it up for dealing with later and getting several loads of laundry done besides that, then starting to move all the unnecessary items out of the bedroom and into the living room (which I have declared a lost cause for the immediate future) to give whatever strong backs and weak minds I successfully recruit as much room as possible to work with.

Yeah, not so much. Today was the day my body said "You know what? You've been in Crisis Mode for ten solid days, and we're DONE now." Barely managed to drag myself out of bed around nine, putzed around on the net for a couple of hours (though I did make an important phone call during that time), then pulled on something resembling clothing and went down to spend a couple of hours with [personal profile] gridlore. His mother showed up while I was there; I was able to hand over the two scarves I made for our nieces (which were declared belated birthday presents) and programmed numbers into her new cell phone. ("I figured you'd be able to do that," she said, "but I didn't want to ask while you were dealing with all this." "It's a welcome distraction," Doug told her, "let her do it.")

She and I both left shortly after that; I stopped at Kohls to use a $10 off coupon and pick up some more lounge pants/sweats/(fitb) for Doug, then went home and took ALL THE NAPS.

Doug called shortly after I woke up. "I'm drinking Readi-Cat!" he announced with mock cheerfulness. "Oh, fuck, I'm sorry," was my immediate reaction; this stuff has been the bane of his existence since he first got Sick™. (He once seriously asked for an NG tube rather than having to drink it...) The procedure meant he would be out of his room at dinner time, and I happily agreed to bring him whatever he asked for when he was done.

I'd gotten a text message from [livejournal.com profile] flarechick17 while I was asleep, asking if he was ready for visitors yet; we wound up pulling into parking spaces opposite one another, and beat Doug back to the room by about three minutes.

Only to discover that they hadn't been able to do the scan they'd fed him the bloody contrast for. He'd done a swallowing study yesterday (prior to being admitted), and the residual barium from that was sufficient that they wouldn't have been able to get a clear image. There was some debate going on about whether they'd try the CT again tomorrow, or just go for an x-ray; we'll see in the morning what they decided on.

The three of us visited for about an hour; V works in EMS and has been a hospital patient herself, so she has a deep appreciation of what Doug's currently going through from both sides of the process. Then he threw us out again so he could sleep. ;-)

Tomorrow I'm meeting up with [personal profile] murphymom for pedicures and some one-on-one time with her before she flies back East for two weeks with her mother. Hopefully after that I'll come home and be able to accomplish at least some of what I wanted to do today.
kshandra: (Wedding)
Admitted to three different medical facilities in ten days. Two in three days, at that.

Thursday, as I'm sitting next to [personal profile] gridlore in his room, I look over and ask, "...is the rash actually getting worse?" Because I couldn't remember seeing it on his scalp before. He wasn't able to give me a definitive answer, so I let it drop.

4:15 this afternoon, he calls me and says "They're taking me to the ER for intensive dermatology testing." This, I should note, was his second trip to Good Sam today, the first having been to get a set of chest x-rays to determine whether or not the pneumonia was resolving.

Did I mention that we found out on Tuesday he'd had pneumonia that they'd been treating, as well as the stroke? (That makes seven diagnosed cases since he finished chemo in '95, for those of you scoring at home.)

So I look apologetically at the poor contractor who's been covering for me in the office as I flit hither and yon, pack up my stuff and head off, with a quick stop by the house to pick up Doug's wallet so we'd have his ID and Medicare card for paperwork.

It should tell you how bad the rash is that Doug was actually asking for pain medication.

We have had some amazing medical professionals throughout the past week and a half, but I think tonight's ER doctor was my favorite yet. Not only did he bring Doug a turkey sandwich and a Coke when it came up that he had missed lunch during his first trip over and was now missing dinner, he went out to the nurses' station to find a remote for the TV in the room and wound up standing on a chair to get the set turned on and changed to the Giants game.

We found out somewhere in the first couple of innings that they were planning to admit Doug. Transport finally showed up to take him to his room in the middle of the ninth. (Which at least meant he didn't have to see them lose in extra innings.)

Somewhere in there, Doug noted that we should call Mission Oaks, because his netbook was still in his room. Not fifteen minutes later, my phone rang; they'd already locked his computer in the medication room (and had the rest of his belongings bagged up, as well, as I discovered when I drove over after Doug was settled). Hopefully we'll get him back there within a week.

I really need to be three people right now: One to sit with Doug when he needs it; one to stay home and do everything that needs to be done before he comes home again; and one to keep going to work full-time so we have a hope in hell of affording this.

False alarm

Aug. 6th, 2013 05:04 pm
kshandra: Graffiti of hands ripping open a dress shirt, Superman fashion, to reveal the word FAIL (FAIL)
[personal profile] gridlore appears to be having an allergic reaction to one of his medications, so he's staying put tonight while they determine which one it is and make the appropriate substitution(s).
kshandra: (Wedding)
I walk away from my desk for three minutes today...and there's voicemail from my mother-in-law when I come back. She's at the hospital with [personal profile] gridlore, and they're talking about discharging him to the rehab facility.

TODAY.

When the nurse practitioner mentioned it to me yesterday, I was figuring they were thinking end of this week, beginning of next...yeah, not so much.

One of my coworkers was already bringing a sandwich back for me when she gets back from lunch, so I've got to choke that down, then run home and grab a couple of changes of clothes and Doug's cane before blasting over to the hospital.

I'll update the CaringBridge page with the facility address once he's settled.

I may not have a nervous breakdown, after all - I'm not going to have time.
kshandra: (Wedding)
Writing this post is incredibly fucking difficult, because once I put it down in words it will be unavoidably real. But it has to be done. )

Progress

Aug. 4th, 2013 09:08 pm
kshandra: (Wedding)
Spent time with [personal profile] gridlore twice today, once around noon, and again just a couple of hours ago. The first time he threw me out after about an hour because "I'm not going to be any fun today;" tonight I sat there in the as-dark-as-ICU-gets room and listened to him sleeping on and off.

It's odd how comforting the sound of snoring can be.

Between naps, he was MUCH more alert (and much less stoned) than he was yesterday, and alternately cranky and depressed about being in the hospital yet again. Finding the right balance between optimism and realism is occasionally challenging; I reminded him today that he was on a ventilator for 60+ hours, so of course his voice isn't going to sound right, and his response was "no, I live in here, and I can tell things are Wrong." [He also asked me at one point how much this is costing; I told him point blank that I refuse to think about that as long as he's still in there, and if nothing else I have experience in writing financial hardship letters.]

The good news is they're moving him out of ICU tonight ("between 8 and 11," the nurse said to me, but nothing had happened yet when I left at 8:30). Doug's looking forward to getting some actual sleep that isn't accompanied by the constant buzz of equipment; here's hoping he gets a compatible roommate. (He's had some real winners in the past, going all the way back to Stanford, when he had one roommate on the cancer ward whose wife spent literally hours on the phone in the room, making international calls.) I do not expect him to be up for non-family visitors for a while, yet; if anything changes, I'll let everyone know.

And possibly the best news of all: When I left tonight, he asked me to sneak him a Coke.
kshandra: (Wedding)
I was at the office printing out copies of [personal profile] gridlore's disability paperwork when my phone rang, and the caller ID said it was the hospital.

It turned out to actually be my mother-in-law at the hospital (she didn't have my cell number). Doug was awake, and they had taken him off the ventilator! And he was all the way back; when she asked if she should call me, his response was "She's going to wonder where I've been for the past three days."

I got to talk to him. I got to hold his hand. I got to feed him ice chips. I got to watch him doze off between sentences, and try to describe some of the fascinating hallucinations he was still having as the sedatives continue to have their way with him.

I have, as you might imagine, been profoundly worried about what neurological damage might be hiding underneath the propofol, but this was very clearly the man I married still inhabiting his skull. Oh, my god, I cannot even begin to tell you how good it was to have him look me in the eye...and groggily say, "I done fucked up." (I did tell him he was no longer allowed to overrule me when it comes to going to the hospital; he pointed to me, looked at his mother, and said "Listen to this woman, for she is wise.")

It sounds as though they're getting closer to a formal diagnosis of what happened, though I'm not ready to discuss it; no reason in forcing the rest of you to go through the same "we think it's this - no, wait, we think it's that" whiplash we've been dealing with since Wednesday night. Once we have something concrete, I'll make it known.

I'll be back in the morning. I'm looking forward to talking with him some more...even if what he says doesn't always make sense.
kshandra: figurine of a teddybear seated at an office desk, looking at a computer (Default)
  • Ate breakfast (turkey & cheddar on the toast left over from Wed/Thu at Mini Gourmet)
  • Electronically signed the paperwork for ACCC
  • Filed [personal profile] gridlore's disability paperwork
  • Renewed Doug's MedicAlert membership for three years (with thanks to the contributions I've received for expenses) and brought ALL of the information current

Still to do:
  • Take my fucking meds already!
  • Shower
  • Laundry (was supposed to go to [personal profile] murphymom's for this, but I think I may just do one load here to get me through)
  • Stop by work to print out receipt from disability form
  • Hospital; add receipt to chart for his MD to certify the disability claim
  • Stop by Doug's office to pick up his insurance check
  • Meet [livejournal.com profile] plymouth at Hobee's for yarn geeking and dinner

Need to steal Doug's "DONE" stamp icon.
kshandra: (Wedding)
copied from an email to our respective mothers, sent yesterday around 5:15pm )

This and all other updates to the situation are now being crossposted to CaringBridge; feel free to share that link with people who may want to stay informed.
kshandra: (Wedding)
[personal profile] gridlore's mother was just coming out of ICU as I got there, so she and I got some face-time, and I was able to introduce her to [livejournal.com profile] qeldoq (who is remaining a family friend, rather than signing on as a member of his treatment team, so she can translate for us without being bound by HIPAA). details back here, cut for the averse )

Before going to the hospital, I stopped in at the office; the plan currently is for me to come in tomorrow, and bring my office computer home with me (an all-in-one, so that's easy enough to do) so I can work from home next week. We'll have someone in the building covering phone calls, but I'll do all the email. I am beyond grateful that my boss is someone I considered a friend long before he was my employer; he is doing everything he can to support both of us through this.

Profile

kshandra: figurine of a teddybear seated at an office desk, looking at a computer (Default)
kshandra

April 2017

S M T W T F S
      1
2 3456 78
9101112131415
16 171819 202122
23 24252627 2829
30      

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Apr. 30th, 2017 10:40 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios