Hi,
Yes, we were missing but in some hectic action. Yesterday, Leenie was pacing & edgy prior to our meeting with the financial aid person. Naturally we were late. She had given us specific instructions - as is her wont - to be in the lobby of specific bldg X at specifically 10 AM whence we would dial a 10 digit number followed by the cagey & specific "1 2 3 #" which would precipitate her appearance with specificity and punctuality and gracious leading of the way to our specific trysting place.
Wellll, it was raining, we left our house @ roughly 9:45 AM and amused ourselves during the trek into downtown Norfolk fumbling through a manila envelope stuffed with sheafs of information in the form of documents, bills, various lists of thigs Eileen did not own, so very short lists, and official profers of identification, ie, Birth Certificate, Social Security Card, Automobile Titles which Leenie also did not have thereby lightening the manila load considerably.
We were maneuvering this treasureless trove alternately with the large telephone book because we thought we were to use the magic number only when we were once inside the lobby of Specific X so we were trying to find the general public's access to Ms. Susan Massey which was complicated by the fact that "the Bitch", as Leenie is fond of saying, is employed by "ChamberlinEdmunds", Eligibility Specialists which service, if one chooses to let one's mind roam, could lead to dastardly provisions indeed. (And I do think they should have kept the 'a' in Chamberlin if they wanted to play with the adults, don't you?) It's of no moment as neither Ms. Massey nor her august employer were listed. We were getting frazzled - but almost there - (it's so hard to scan tumbling pieces of paper & "manage" a phone book search when you're driving a rented vehicle (My poor little "back-ender" is still in ICU) with wipers going on when I thought I'd used a directional & vice versa). Wellll, 3 blocks from the Medical Center Campus, the cell rings - somewhere between us & I found it to be the Massey woman herself so we went right into gear using those terribly relieved, happy, embarrassed, nauseating tones of voice saved for such occasions as I relayed to Leenie how fortunate we were b/c you'll never believe. . ."oh, no, really? Please let me explain to her. . ."And so it was that minutes later, I dropped Leenie off at the Main Hospital adjacent to the Childrens' Hospital, sporting its Charlie-and-the-chocolate-factory "look"and went off to the parking garage, visible in the far, bleak distance, telling her I'd meet them wherever. But no, after schlepping back, about to inquire as to Leenie's location, Leenie called my name from behind, simply saying, "Lorane. There she is. She insisted on waiting for you."
And after settling comfortably into 3 office desk chairs lined against the wall in a hallway, the Meeting began. Forms, forms, forms. . .questions, questions, questions - state and federal - re: who are you, how did you get here, whom are those living at this address and this address? And cryptic comments, her favorite being, "I can only write down what you tell me.". Leenie & I would take turns with what seemed to be feeble attempts at clarification - "Yes, she's not able to work because she is disabled. (one of her blank-tape glares) "Ah, I see. She is disabled because the cancer causes a great deal of pain. . . because the cancer prevents her from using her right arm presently. . .because she doesn't have the stamina to point to an unruly student. . .". Finally, she scoured her notes with the order & dexterity of the astigmatic and said, "What was the first thing you said, 'the cancer completely interferes with her ability to function'"; that will have to do. After an overly extended discussion of "Of which state is Eileen a resident?" - a matter which will be decided by codified law & the state which harbors her person at this time, Leenie signed 20 or so forms which will now be processed, ruled upon and either accepted or appealed.
Our "advocate" scurried off mumbling, to the Great Eligibility Shaman, her Supervisor, where they would chant, choose and chain the matter UP - perhaps to Chamberlin him/herself. . .
We lunched at a divine, very old-Southern-Townehouse-turned--cafe and admired the lively, giggling octagenarians who were having a wear-an-outrageous-hat Happy New Year luncheon. And Leenie had a marvelous open faced medium rare roast boef sandwich and their specialty muffins.
Whew!
This morning came rather quickly. We were off to the Medical Center for round #2 of Chemo #1 therapy. I had called Dr. Cross Monday on another matter and he told me it would be today @ 9:30 AM- don't be late; when we got home from "The Painted Lady" lunch yesterday, Phil told us Leenie would be having chemo at 8:00 AM today; Leenie then called and the nurse said her treatment would start at 8:30 AM. (As a nurse, this would burn me. And if half way through treatment, Clara Barton leans over & sweetly inquires reassuringly, "You are Ms. Vooder, Hodgkins, right?" who can be so bold as to call Med Mal attorneys litigeous liars?)
The nurse (of course) was right. The system was wrong. First they drew blood for a complete blood cell count and, based on those results, Dr. Cross would be contacted, informed & given an opportunity to make chages in dosage, rate of infusion and any additional medications he felt might be warranted.
Therefore, the therapy/infusion of the chemo began around 8:20 AM & we left the hospital at around 1:45 pm. After pointing out some time-consuming problems, we all agreed that next week, Leenie can get her blood work done the afternoon before at a hospital she can walk to and the results will be faxed to the Infusion Center in Norfolk in time for the nurse to relay them to Dr. Cross for evaluation/recommendations.
We've been having a nasty, windy tropical storm since we arrived home. Perfect for sleeping. And so to bed.
Lorane
,
